Sisters in Time
by Eternal Density
Summary: Marty goes back five years to make a small purchase, and ends up with a lot more than he bargained for. A complicated mess of alternate realities results. Hard to summarise! Comes after "Past-Forward". Complete. I set the rating to T cos it's a bit w
1. Unexpected call and arrival

Sisters in Time

The second Back to the Future fanfiction by Eternal Density

Disclaimer: I don't own BTTF, or any affiliated characters, places, vehicles, actors, or versions of reality. I don't even own the DVD, my Dad does. If I did own BTTF, it might have been set in Australia. If I did own the DVD, I would watch it frequently. I do own any characters you do not recognise. Check the scripts if unsure or ask a real Backie!  
  
Warning: it's probably a good idea to read Past-Forward prior to reading this fic. If you don't know what prior means, keep a dictionary handy while reading.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
8:00 am  
Nov 12 1985  
Hill Valley California  
  
"Briiiiing!" A telephone rang shrilly.  
  
"'Lo?"  
  
"Good morning Marty."  
  
"Doc! What time is it?"  
  
"Eight."  
  
"Oh. I better get ready for school. What's up?"  
  
"I've bought a house."  
  
"Al-already? Doc, it's only been three days."  
  
"Who's counting? I have ways around that sort of problem."  
  
"Oh, yeah. I should have thought of that. Is it a good place?"  
  
"Naturally, or I wouldn't have bought it. Can you come over this afternoon?"  
  
"Sure thing Doc. Just give me an address and some directions, and I'll be there in no time."  
  
"I can do better than that. I'll send Jules and Verne over after school with directions. That way, you can get to know them better. Expect them at 3:30."  
  
"That's a smart idea, Doc. I'll keep a lookout for them when I get home from school. Just don't let it take too long. There's a dance on this evening." "Dance? As in the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance?" "Nah, not quite like that. It's the Clock-tower Fundraiser Night. The whole town will be there. No, more like a quarter. Anyhow, there will be a lot of people." "Really? I must have missed noticing it in my busyness. Are there any more tickets available?"  
  
"Yeah, they're selling 'em at the door. You want to come?"  
  
"Indeed, I would like to. But I'm not sure what to do with the boys."  
  
"Don't worry. Bring 'em along and they'll be fine. Mrs. Gunderson is organising some activities for the kids. She's a primary school teacher, and sure knows how to keep kids in line. And I'm sure they'll want to dance to the music a bit. But we can talk about it later. I really need to go now."  
  
"Goodbye Marty. "See you soon." Marty put the phone down, picked up his schoolbag, grabbed a minimal amount of breakfast, and dove away in his truck.  
  
12:34 pm  
  
During the lunch break, Marty was naturally talking with the one and only Jennifer Parker. They were sitting at a table with one of Marty's band members and his girlfriend, but from the way they were looking at one another, they might as well have been alone.  
  
"I phoned my grandma last night," Jennifer was just saying.  
  
"You did? What did you find out?"  
  
"Her mother's name was Annabelle."  
  
"That sure means a lot."  
  
Fortunately, the other couple at the table were not paying much attention either, so no one questioned the meaning of that statement.  
  
Jennifer continued, "She said that her parents met at a dance..."  
  
"Typical," Marty muttered.  
  
"...where a bully from school was bothering her."  
  
"Sounds familiar."  
  
"She said that this boy had nearly been kicked out of the school a number of times, and his father had threatened to send him to work on his uncle's farm if he didn't bring his grades up."  
  
"So, if Annabelle hadn't given him the homework answers and all that, he woulda been sent off to the farm and could have never bullied her at the dance, years later, and your grandmother could never have been born..."  
  
"That's my guess. It makes sense."  
  
"I'll need to tell that to Doc this afternoon."  
  
Jennifer responded with a nod, since Marty had already told her about the phone call he had received.  
  
"Say, I'm sure Doc wouldn't mind if you came with me. You could help explain."  
  
Jennifer looked down. "I don't know if I should. I don't know Doctor Brown as well as you do, and last time I went along with you..." her voice trailed off.  
  
"Don't worry, Jen. That mess wasn't your fault. I'm sure Doc and his family would love to come over. You can come to my place to do homework, and we can go together."  
  
"Uh..."  
  
"C'mon. At least come to my place. You can decide later. You know my mom likes to see you."  
  
"If you put it that way, then sure I'll come."  
  
"Great. Maybe..."  
  
The loud ringing of the school bell cut off the rest of his words. Students started walking towards their respective classes. "Gotta go. I don't want to be late for History. Catch you later Jen," Mary said as fast as possible.  
  
"Bye Marty," Jennifer called. As she walked to her own class, French, she laughed to herself about the funny side of being 'late for history'. She also began to wonder what sort of house Doctor Brown had chosen for his family.  
  
3:29 pm  
  
"They should be here in a minute. I guess they're walking."  
  
"I wouldn't expect Doctor Brown to let his kids just walk across town on their own."  
  
"Yeah, same here. But Doc is often unpredictable, and besides, we have no idea of how far away..."  
  
Marty was suddenly interrupted from his conversation with Jennifer on the front lawn of his house. There was a loud bang, like a gunshot played in slow motion. It was accompanied by some bright flashes of blue light, and followed by two further booming sounds. Very familiar sounds. Jennifer's eyes lit up with recognition. "The time machine!"  
  
But it was not a time machine that materialised amidst the disturbance. Rather, it was Jules, atop a skateboard and wearing some strange silverish outfit.  
  
"Whoa! Oh, uh, hello Marty. Greetings Jennifer," he said, trying to put on his usual 'dignified' voice. It didn't last long. "Hey, this is fun!"  
  
"It looks fun," observed Marty. "Are you from the past or the future? I never saw you leave, if you have already left. You didn't look like you were going 88."  
  
Jules stepped off the skateboard a little unsteadily. "I'm from the present," he declared.  
  
"Then how did you end up here?" Jennifer asked.  
  
"Dad has been working on a gadget to just move things through space, not time. A velocity of only 22 miles per hour is sufficient for physical displacement. Which is a good thing, because my parents would never allow me to ride a skateboard at 88."  
  
"Wow!" was all Marty could say as he walked over.  
  
"What's with all the silver coloured clothing? It looks all metallic," Jennifer said inquisitively, coming over for a closer look.  
  
Jules explained. "It is metal, after a fashion. It's a sort of steel-organic-polymer-composite, which Dad came up with while he was trying to develop some sort of conductive coating for something. He had to modify it somewhat to make it into a fabric, and required some devices from the future to be able to make it properly."  
  
"Wow," said Marty again. "It looks pretty cool, but what's it for?"  
  
"Well, apart from being stylish, the stainless steel construction makes the flux dispersal..." Jules suddenly looked at his Mickey Mouse wristwatch. "Look out!"  
  
Marty realised exactly what was happening, having lived through the same situation already. He quickly pulled Jennifer off the street, so quickly that she had no time to be shocked. Jules dove the other direction, kicking his extremely metallic skateboard with his foot.  
  
A triple temporal boom rang out, accompanied by the bright appearance of Verne on rollerblades. "Wahoo!" he yelled as he flung himself into a fast spin. He turned rapidly on the spot until he slowed down and toppled onto someone's front lawn.  
  
"What are you trying to do Verne?" Jules demanded.  
  
Marty had a quick answer. "An impression of a licence plate."  
  
"Not funny," countered Jules in a serious voice. "He could have hurt himself."  
  
Verne started laughing so hard that he nearly did hurt himself. Jennifer looked a little lost, but recovered her composure and said, "We should really leave before someone wonders what you're wearing."  
  
Marty agreed. "We don't want to run out of time. Everyone in the truck."  
  
As the four piled into Marty's vehicle, Jules handed Marty a scrap of paper with directions scrawled on it. He thanked the boy, and began finding his way to the new house.  
  
"Whoa!" exclaimed Marty as he parked on the driveway leading to a sprawling estate that was easily bigger than the Brown family mansion. "Jen, this is the Shinglehill Estate."  
  
"Really? I never saw the sign. How could Doctor Brown possibly..."  
  
"C'mon everyone, let's go inside," Marty urged. "If you want to ask questions, ask the Doc."  
  
He started leading everyone to the front door, but Jules quickly corrected him. "The main steps are not safe. They are all rotten. We need to take a side entrance."  
  
"Okay then. We'll follow you," agreed Marty.  
  
Jules led them past wild hedges and over crumbled crazy paving. He opened a small door (small compared to the main entrance) and passed through what seemed to be an old laundry. This room had several cracked tiles, and a little water damage. They followed him up a hallway lined with peeling wallpaper and faded, plush carpet.  
  
He opened a squealing door and walked out into a large lounge room. "Here we are," he announced grandly.  
  
Marty looked around the room. It probably would have looked a lot nicer thirty or forty years ago. He spotted a mound of rolled-up carpet and Doctor Emmet L. Brown crouching on the floor behind it, hammering something.  
  
"Some of the floorboards came loose after all these years: the nails rusted through," he said by way of explanation.  
  
"I'm fine thank-you, Doc. How about you?" Marty asked with a smile in his voice.  
  
"Dusty," the scientist answered. "Hello everyone," he added as an afterthought.  
  
Verne unexpectedly said, "It had nothing to do with my candy stash this time."  
  
"Candy stash?" Marty asked.  
  
"Yeah." Verne explained the whole story while Emmett finished nailing down the loose boards.  
  
When the job was done, he rolled the carpet back and put down his tools. "Now that I have put that job out of the way, I have some time to talk. We'll have to sit on the floor, since we haven't moved the lounge in yet."  
  
"This is a big place you have here, Doc. How did you afford it?"  
  
"I had enough money tucked away to make a deposit, and I know I can get a good price for my old house, or rather, for the land. Additionally, this place was dirt cheap since it's old, run down, and no one else wants it."  
  
"Isn't this the old Shinglehill Estate?" Jennifer asked.  
  
"Ah, yes it is. The sign was self-dismantling due to the ravages of the weather, so I have removed it, and will replace it with something more appropriate, or significant."  
  
"You mean you're going to rename it?"  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"Great. So how come you're already moving in if this place is in such a bad condition?"  
  
"You see, I have already been working on it for a number of days, making it habitable. I actually bought this place a couple of weeks ago, and I could work on it 24 hours a day if I had to."  
  
"Sneaky Doc, very sneaky. So what's with this new invention that Jules and Verne demonstrated for us?  
  
"The physical displacement? Yes, that is a piece of interesting engineering. I have been experimenting in that area for quite some time. In fact, I theorised on it a good bit while inventing the time machine. It gave me something to do on those days when nothing seemed to be working."  
  
"Is there some sort of flux capacitor gizmo to make it work?" Marty asked.  
  
"Indeed, there is. I'm sure you noticed the boys' backpacks."  
  
"Ahhh, barely. I was thinking more about the sliver clothes."  
  
"Well, you see... wait a moment. Boys!" he suddenly called.  
  
"Yes Dad?"  
  
"You really ought to change into some other clothes now. Those transition suits aren't really for playing in."  
  
The boys ran off to some other room, and Emmett continued with his explanation. "Each pack contains a smaller version of the flux capacitor, along with a compact fusion power source. Although the smaller object being displaced requires a smaller flux-field, and thus a smaller flux capacitor can be used, a stable 1.21 gigawatts is still necessary to create and maintain a stable envelope. Fortunately, due to the nature of the spatial dimensions, a much lower velocity is sufficient for the displacement to take place."  
  
"That's... cool, I think," Marty responded, having only a vague idea of what had just been said.  
  
The scientist was off in his own world, in full lecture mode. "I had hoped for some sort of positioning system, which allows the user to know exactly where he or she is located. However, inertial systems are rather inaccurate in this case, and I can't use a GPS."  
  
"A what?" Jennifer interrupted.  
  
"Global Positioning System. It is a technology from the future that uses very accurate clocks up in satellites to allow triangulation of any receiver's exact position. Unfortunately, there is no way we can use it now."  
  
"Why not?" Marty wanted to know. "Can't you just get a receiver from the future and stick it in?"  
  
"Yes, but the satellites don't exist yet. You need to think..."  
  
"Forth-dimensionally, yes I know. That reminds me, Jen talked to her grandma and found some information about the whole thing with Annabelle."  
  
"She did? I hope it answers more questions than it raises."  
  
"Yes, I think it does," Jennifer answered. She then began to explain what she had told Marty. "It's like this: her mother's name was Annabelle, and I think we can assume she's the same person."  
  
"I would expect so," Emmett agreed.  
  
"She said that her parents met at a dance where a bully from school was bothering her."  
  
"Sounds familiar," Emmett commented.  
  
"That's exactly what I said," Marty said in surprise.  
  
"Then she said that this boy had nearly been kicked out of the school a number of times, and his father had threatened to send him to work on his uncle's farm unless he improved his grades. I figure the bully was the same one Jules was fighting," Jennifer concluded.  
  
"Stewart," Marty prompted, saying the name with distaste. "I guess Tannens aren't the only bullies in the world."  
  
"True. The way I see it, if Annabelle hadn't given him the answers to the homework and any further schoolwork, due to Jules' intervention, he most certainly been banished to the farm and eventually would not have been present at that dance, years later, and your grandparents would not have met. They would have possibly married other people, causing many differences among their descendents, resulting in your absence from the timeline and the presence of other Parkers."  
  
Jennifer's mind caught up with her ears after a minute and she nodded, saying, "That's what I figured, pretty much. The interesting thing is that Stewart stayed in school when he was a bully, but when he was 'cured' of it by Jules, he was sent away."  
  
Marty had something to say to that. "This is all really interesting, guys, but Jen and I better be going. We need to get to the community hall early. I didn't tell you earlier, but since my mom is in the clock tower-saving group, she volunteered to help with organising tonight." "And you need to help set up?" Emmett said, thinking he understood. "That, and the fact that she managed to get the Pinheads to be able to play a couple of songs. We need to set up our instruments." Marty couldn't hide the excitement in his voice. "That's wonderful. This could be the big break you've been talking about for the last year or so."  
  
"What do you think, Doc?"  
  
"I beg you pardon?"  
  
"C'mon Doc, d'you have any idea of whether we'll become rock stars because of this night? Do you know anything?"  
  
"I certainly don't, so don't get any ideas about finding about your own future."  
  
"Okay Doc, I won't. Hey, where's Clara?"  
  
"Ah, she is currently putting clothes into wardrobes. I've managed to bring two bedrooms to a habitable state, so we can live here while I renovate the rest of the house."  
  
"You've certainly got your work cut out for you. This is one big house. Hey, I was just thinking, why did you go to the trouble of getting in by today? You could have done things more normally, and it wouldn't have made much difference."  
  
"True, but today is a special day."  
  
"Because it's thirty years since the lightning strike, and a lot of other things that happened that day?"  
  
"That and the fact that today Clara and I have our hundredth wedding anniversary, or tenth, depending on how you look at it."  
  
"Wow, that rocks. We'll see you at the dance. So tell Clara we said hi and congratulations, and have a good night."  
  
"We will. Now where did I put those carpet tacks?"  
  
"They're on the shelf Doc. Bye."  
  
"Goodbye Doctor Brown," Jennifer said as she followed Marty to the back door. The couple climbed into Marty's truck, and sped off toward the community hall.


	2. 30, 10, and 100 Year Anniversary

Chapter 2  
  
4:25 pm  
Nov 12 1985  
Hill Valley California  
  
"Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetch! Crackle. Pop!"  
  
"Uh, I think that was up too high, guys."  
  
"Yeah, Marty, we noticed. Maybe we should move the mike away from the speakers."  
  
Marty shook his head to himself. Man, these guys could be clueless at times. "What do you think you're doing, putting it here in the first place?"  
  
"Uh, we thought...um, it seemed..."  
  
"Nope, you didn't think at all. How about letting me take care of that. You guys can go and, er, and help Bryan with the drum-kit. Yeah, do that."  
  
Marty quickly rearranged all the sound equipment into useful positions. He intermittently called out explanations to the others, in the hope that they might remember how to do it next time. "These guys are quite a long way from becoming a professional band," he thought.  
  
Finally, all the equipment was correctly placed and wired for sound. "Okay, guys. Let's have a quick practice, to make sure we're in tune and quiet enough. We don't wanna get kicked out because we're too loud again," Marty cautioned.  
  
"What song should we do?" asked Trevor, the bassist. "How about Johnny B. Goode?"  
  
Marty shook his head emphatically. "We'd better do one of the songs we're playing tonight. We have 'The Power of Love' down pat, so it would be best to run through our 'Clock-tower Blues' another time."  
  
Trevor agreed. "One run through, to make sure we're smooth on all the changes."  
  
All the other musicians agreed, and they quickly practiced the new song. Jennifer was called away to help with something else halfway through the song. When they were finished practicing, all the band members put down their instruments and went to see if there was any thing they could do to help.  
  
Marty quickly found himself handing out flyers at the door, flyers detailing the night's schedule of events. After ten minutes of early arrivals had trickled through, Marty spied Doc buying tickets with his family. He called out, "Hey Doc, over here!"  
  
Emmett waded through the crowd, family in tow. He looked through the schedule that Marty gave him. "This seems to tell me everything I need to know," he commented in a pleased voice. "However, it would be even better if it contained a map of the hall: with the crowd, I cannot see where the food tables are."  
  
"That's easy Doc, just head for the middle of the crowd. You can't miss them."  
  
"Thank you. Do you know where Jennifer is?"  
  
"Yeah, she should be in the kitchen, why?"  
  
"Just keeping track of everyone. It is good to know in the event of an emergency. Which reminds me, what songs are you playing?"  
  
Marty realised Doc's concerns. "Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything which will remind anyone of 'Calvin Klein' from thirty years ago. But really Doc, no one will remember that after thirty years. And even if they do remember a little, they'll think it's just a coincidence."  
  
"I am glad to see you are being careful. There is no point in tempting fate, as it were. Now if you will excuse us, we need something to eat."  
  
"Sure Doc. Have a good time. You too, Clara."  
  
"Thank you Marty. I must say that this event is quite different to the social events I am accustomed to," Clara responded.  
  
"Don't worry ma'am. You'll adjust in no time."  
  
"Thank you for your confidence. I must say... oh! Where are the boys?"  
  
Emmett detected the concern in his wife's voice. "I'm sure they will be somewhere close," he comforted. "See, there they are, talking to that man with the balloons. I think we should join them."  
  
Marty watched the actions of the Brown family members for a minute, giving minimal attention to the schedule flyers. From what he could see, Jules and Verne had received a balloon each, and their father was giving them a mini-lecture on the properties of helium, which they were unfamiliar with.  
  
He smiled to himself He had always considered Doc to be 'family', and it was good to see him with a real family, especially now that they lived in the present time, and were rather friendly to him.  
  
It was a shock, really. He had not expected Doc to end up with a family when he started time traveling. He had not truly expected it when Doc and Clara were left in 1885. But he had not expected Doc to build a train into a time machine either. He was sure that Doc had not expected the changes either, but the scientist had a lot more time to adjust.  
  
Thinking of adjusting, Marty was having a hard time adjusting to the changes in his own family. The changes were all positive, giving his home a nicer atmosphere, but the results of the changes weren't that big. His parents and siblings still had much the same characters, and were mostly predictable. His parents' attitudes had certainly changed for the better, and Dave and Linda had followed suit.  
  
Marty wasn't sure where he fit into the changes. He only properly remembered things the old way, with the occasional memory of the changed reality unexpectedly popping into his mind. He had never been very integrated with the rest of the family, being the youngest of three had that effect. His dad was still distant, his loser mentality replaced with a sort of overachievement tendency that kept him busy. His mom was just as useless in her comments about Jennifer: she seemed to have moved from one extreme to another. It was surprising how things seemed to even out.  
  
At least the band was still the same. The teenager rubbed his hands together in anticipation, excited about showing his talents to the world, and ready to enjoy the music regardless of the outcome. In doing so, he noticed that his hands were empty, so he moved towards the food table.  
  
"... one of the rising new bands in the region, the Pinheads. Thank you for your attention." The M.C. finally finished his long, dry speech, and invited the first band onto the stage.  
  
"Hey everyone, we're the Pinheads. We'll start off by warming up with a song many of you may know, 'The Power of Love' by Huey Lewis and the News," Marty said by way of introduction. "So how about we dance?"  
  
A few people cheered at that, and a whole lot more joined in. Bryan, the drummer, counted everyone in and the song started.  
  
This time, everyone made a big effort to keep the volume down. Consequently, they finished the entire song without being interrupted. Marty could see that everyone in the hall were enjoying themselves thoroughly. "Okay everyone. Now we're about to play something new we wrote for this special occasion. I call it 'The Clock-Tower Blues'. It isn't the most imaginative name, but here goes."  
  
The song started rolling fairly gently with the first verse:  
  
_The clock was keeping perfect time, __A tower dangerous to climb,_ _When the rain came down, __A freak storm hit our town, __And the hands they stopped on a dime._  
  
_It was ticking so magnificently,_ _Proud for all the world to see,_ _When lightning struck,_ _The cogs all stuck,_ _And changed the course of history_  
  
The drums banged loudly twice and a loud twang erupted from Marty's instrument, signaling the much heavier chorus.  
  
_No it isn't fair to our poor clock there,_ _to be replaced by something new._ _The clock you see is our history,_ _to fix it will never do._  
  
_No it isn't right and it puts me to fright,_ _to mess with its inner core,_ _For it was the end of our loyal friend,_ _When it failed at ten o'four._  
  
Everything slowed down again for the second verse:  
  
_On the twelfth, of November_ _Something that we remember_ _The thunder rolled,_ _As we've all been told,_ _And made it into an ember._  
  
There was a similar transition into the chorus. People were really starting to enjoy themselves.  
  
_No it isn't fair to our poor clock there,_ _to be made to run again._ _A dance was held on that night, I'm telled,_ _it's a trip down memory lane._  
  
The guitar lead through a long instrumental arrangement before stating the concluding chorus.  
  
_And it's such a shame to make any claim,_ _that the clock should again go,_ _For when I look it is like a book_ _telling us about long ago._  
  
By then, the hall was filled with people cheering and dancing. The drums clashed slowly to a stop and the guitar ran down with a bit of a screech, Marty trying not to overdo things. The audience went wild as the Pinheads bowed and left the stage. The M.C. introduced the next act and people began to calm down.  
  
Marty was intercepted by Jennifer, who gave him a quick kiss, saying, "That was wonderful playing, Marty. Just wonderful. I'm so glad that you got a chance to perform, and for so many people."  
  
"Yeah, it sure is. But the thanks goes to my Mom, who got us in."  
  
"Why thank you, Marty," said Lorraine from behind. "You certainly did a good job with that clock-tower song, given the time you had to write and practice it. It was nice music. Not too loud. I remember, although not very well, how a boy played guitar at the dance thirty years ago. He was just terribly loud. I'm glad you haven't turned out like him, or like your aunt Sally, poor child."  
  
"What about her?" Marty wondered.  
  
Lorraine didn't have time to open her mouth. A burly, businesslike man suddenly appeared and started talking. "Hey, you're Marty McFly, right?"  
  
Marty gulped nervously. "Uh, yeah."  
  
"Great! You are exactly what I need."  
  
"Oh? How so?" Marty was a little intimidated by the big man's overbearing manner.  
  
"Ahhh. Just the other day I was saying to myself, 'Phil,' (Since that's my name, Phil Dransellton, owner of Dransellton's Mega Pet Store), 'Phil,' I said to myself. 'What you need is a bright young musician and songwriter to come up with a new radio jingle, that's what you need.' Because, you see, business is slow at the moment, and a radio ad is just the thing, and our current one is just too old and commonplace. So what do you say?"  
  
"Me? Did I miss something?"  
  
"Why no, you didn't. I did. I meant to ask you if you would come up with a nice little ditty to advertise my shop, seeing as you did so well on the Clock-tower."  
  
"Oh. You want me to write you a song?"  
  
"Of course. From what I've heard today, you'd be perfect."  
  
"Thank you. I'll look into it, Mr Dransellton."  
  
"Please, call me Phil. I'll drop some documents by tomorrow. Have a fun night!"  
  
The businessman vanished as quickly as he had arrived. Marty turned to his mother, and found empty air. "Hey, where did she go?"  
  
"Another organiser needed her help," Jennifer explained. "Let's dance."  
  
And dance they did. The band played and the temperature rose. Everyone appeared to be having an enjoyable time. Marty glimpsed his parents dancing too. Lorraine was smiling broadly, which probably meant George had said something sweet to her about density. Either that, or ticket sales were high.  
  
A few songs later, a band called 'Kataclyzm' played. Somewhere buried in the noise, Marty detected something familiar, although he could not put his finger on what it was. Because he had heard the M.C. say that the group had just put out a successful album, he determined to visit the music store in the near future. In the meantime, he enjoyed the music and Jennifer's company.  
  
Eventually, the number of attendees still present dwindled and the event came to an end. Marty found himself wiping tables and stacking chairs. He figured it was fair to help out, since his band had been allowed to play largely due to his mother's involvement. He was most glad to have Jennifer alongside, giving a hand. And he had a good opportunity to talk to his mom.  
  
"What did you say you asked me earlier?"  
  
"About Aunt Sally. You've always said things like 'You don't wanna end up like your aunt Sally', and 'I'm glad you didn't turn out like Sally.' So what exactly happened to Aunt Sally?"  
  
"That's a sad story, the one about Sally. She was in her early teens, at the beginning of the sixties. I think she was getting rather bored, since I was her only sister, and I was always with your father. It was also partly rebellion, I believe. In any case, she got in with a bad crowd, as we say. After a while she went missing, and..."  
  
"And?" Marty prompted gently.  
  
Lorraine paused. "She was later found to have died of drug overdose."  
  
"Whoa. Your sister took drugs?"  
  
"Apparently so. The police said she didn't take anything until after disappearing, but I really don't understand how they could tell. She is quite a sad story, Sally."  
  
"Too bad. I'd hate to lose a sister, even Linda. It must have been hard on the family." 

Lorraine started to nod when she was called away to explain which storeroom the cordial dispensers belonged in. Marty could not think of anything relevant to say, so he didn't say anything. He just thought about what little he had seen of Sally on his 'trip' to 1955. Although his mom had talked about Sally before his trip back in time, finding out about her demise after seeing her as a kid was a shock. He was certainly glad he hadn't turned out like her.


	3. Planning to have a Dizarsta picnic

Chapter 3

3:50 pm

Nov 15 1985

Hill Valley California

"Of course! It's so obvious, I should have noticed it sooner."

Noticed what, Marty?" Jennifer asked as she appeared from behind a tall wire rack of cassettes.

"The Dizarsta."

"The what?"

"Dizarsta. That's what Kataclyzm used to be called. They put out an album nearly four years ago, but I think they weren't as good as they were Tuesday night, so it didn't take off. Only sold a few copies. Mind you, they only a few, distributing them to the surrounding towns, but not even a quarter sold."

"Did you buy one?"

"Excuse me, may I help you?" interrupted the store clerk, a thin man just over thirty years old named Henry Phillips.

"Oh, hi Mr. Phillips. I'm fine for the moment. I just found the Kataclyzm tape, and I was remembering how they used to be called Dizarsta."

"Alrighty. Call if you need anything."

"Sure, I will," Marty assured the long-haired man. "Now, where were we?"

"I just asked if you had bought Dizarsta's album." Jen reiterated.

"Nah. I remember seeing it in the store, this store in fact. I picked it up, but I wasn't really interested at the time."

Jennifer caught something in his voice. "At the time?" she echoed.

"Yeah, now I think it would be swell to have their first album, and compare it."

"Too bad. You know, it's funny that you remember picking it up that day, when you barely remembered the old name of the band," Jennifer commented.

"Not really. I did eventually remember the name, and on the other hand, that day just stuck in my memory. It was April fourth, and Spring had just started. There was warm sun, but a cool breeze. In fact, that was quite a windy day."

"Wow! I'm amazed you can remember so much."

"There's another thing I regret about that day, apart from not buying that tape."

"And that is?" Jennifer prompted.

"Hey, if it isn't the big M!" a newcomer to the shop exclaimed.

"Hi Needles," Marty answered in a flat voice. Then he muttered under his breath, "Speak of the devil..."

"How's it hanging McFly? After the Kataclyzm tape?"

"Yeah, actually. I was just about to go up to the counter and buy it, wasn't I Jen."

"Yes, he was."

To prove it, Marty set the tape on the counter with a stack of coins.

"Ah, great. Now, your change should be... uh..." muttered Mr. Phillips.

"Hey McFly. You still owe me a drag race," cut in Needles, reminding everyone he was still in the room.

"Me? I owe you nothing."

"Still chicken, eh?"

"No, I'm just not doing it. Here's a twenty." Those last comments were directed to the clerk."

"He is chicken, isn't he Bess?"

Needles' girlfriend, who had remained silent, nodded and answered. "He's been chicken since you dared him to skateboard tow behind that car, four years ago."

"I do that all the time now," Marty defended.

"Heh, if you can do that, you can drag me."

"Nope. It's illegal. And besides, I have better things to do." He turned to the slow clerk. "Keep the change and buy a calculator." He left the store, knowing Needles wouldn't come after him, because he hadn't bought anything yet.

As he started up his truck, heading towards Doc's place, Jennifer said, "I might suppose that the day Needles was referring to was April fourth. Am I right?"

Marty nodded, slightly miserably. "It was after I visited the music store that day. Needles dared me, but I wouldn't do it. I was too afraid of falling off and crashing. Needles has been calling me chicken ever since. I've learnt to tow really well now, but it hasn't helped."

"Don't worry. I know you aren't chicken. Who cares what Needles and his friends say?"

"That's what I've come to realise, thanks to that trip to the nineteenth century," Marty answered.

"I say, anyone who would choose a Tannen for a girlfriend isn't worth the time of day," Jennifer declared.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Me? Why would I... oh! You mean that reality Doctor Brown saw where I didn't exist?"

"Yeah, I did have Bess herself as my girlfriend. Apparently she was a fairly nice person, affected by other parts of the change made to the timeline or whatever the name for it is. But you weren't around to make that statement, so it doesn't count."

"Of course not. You are certainly worth more than the time of day, in my eyes. Look! There's a new sign up!"

Marty looked as he started down the Brown's driveway. The sign was a thin board with cutout letters reading, 'Century House'. "Nice. The name 'Century' really fits, and 'House' is much better than calling it 'Mansion', 'Estate', or 'Ranch'."

"It sounds humble, which suits Doctor Brown and his family well. The shape is nice too."

"Yeah, I like it. Here we are. The driveway sure isn't short."

"That does give a lot of privacy," Jennifer pointed out as she jumped out of the black truck. "Look Marty, Doctor Brown and the boys are working on the steps."

Marty answered by walking briskly to the termite-eaten entrance. "Hi Doc, Jules, Verne. Need a hand?" he offered.

"That would be appreciated. Just hold the other end of that board. It's good to see you both."

"Same here Doc. Sorry we couldn't get over here the last couple of days."

"That's alright. I know you have other commitments, and I don't expect you to drop everything."

"Still, I'd like to help as much as I can. You are my friend." Marty turned to Verne, who was passing around nails, and said, "I heard you're working on a comic. How's it doing?"

"Great. I added Jules nearly getting trampled at the dance, after he went forward in time 'cos he hadta escape from the ravine monster."

"Oooh, that sounds... fun. What have you been doing, Jules?"

Jules, who was measuring some things with a tape and rolling his eyes at his brother's comic, answered, "I have been engaged in renovations to our domicile. Additionally, I have visited the library and read much content on the subject of history and the present state of technology."

"Wow. Anything else?"

"Yeah, I did some skateboarding this morning," he answered, dropping his 'superior' tone for a moment.

"Good to see you are enjoying yourself," Marty answered.

"That should hold it in," Emmet announced as he hammered in anther nail. "This half of the stairway should be usable, but we need to cut more wood for the rest of it. Marty, Jennifer, would you like to take a tour? We've cleaned up several rooms since your Tuesday visit."

"Sure, let's look around," Marty answered.

"That sounds interesting," Jennifer agreed.

"Right, let's get going. I'll show you the layout of the house first, and they we can take a walk around the grounds." The white-haired scientist opened one side of the huge main door for his two friends and his two sons to walk inside.

"Hey, this hallway is..." Marty struggled to find a word for it.

"Heavy?" Verne filled in.

"Something like that. I can just imagine what it would look like with some paint, wallpaper and new carpet."

"Yes, we've already removed most of the old wallpaper and carpet. I'm sure that if the carpet had stayed down any longer, the floor would have completely rot away. As it is, it will need some more sanding back."

"Hey, that's a good thing to put in the next part of my comic. Jules could..."

Jules didn't wait to find out what peril would befall him next. He grabbed Verne and clapped his hand over the younger boy's mouth. Verne responded by making a mumbling sound and biting down on Jules' finger.

"Aaargh!" Jules jerked his hand away and both boys tumbled onto the floor.

"Boys!" their father thundered. "Get up off the floor and go to your rooms at once. I suggest you think long and hard about the way you are treating one another. And Verne, you can think about making a new character for your comic, or asking Jules whether he minds you using him."

Both boys scurried upstairs.

"Is that typical for them?" Jennifer asked.

"Unfortunately, it tends to be common, but not always so pronounced. We should really do more together." Emmet took the couple through the spacious entry room, which opened into the main lounge room. This room had doors leading to the family room and a music room. A short hallway connected it to the dining room, which adjoined the sizable kitchen.

"Hello Marty, hello Jennifer," greeted Clara who was preparing a chicken to roast. "Would either of you like a drink?"

"I'm fine, but thanks for asking," Marty replied.

"Could I have a glass of water please?" Jennifer asked.

"Certainly. Emmet, would you mind getting the jug out of the refrigerator? My hands are too messy."

He poured his guest her drink, and everyone looked around the kitchen and dining room while she drank. "You sure have your work cut out for you here, but it'll be great when it's done," Marty said as he clambered up the staircase to the second storey.

"Yes, but if we put our minds to it, we can accomplish anything. I've already had the plumber and electrician go over the place, getting it up to standard. This is the library. I had to get the place to a certain stage before we could move in here, and the council will still come and inspect it occasionally, to make sure we are not leaving it in an unsatisfactory state. The boys' rooms are down that hall, and this is the study."

"Nice study," Marty commented. "I could do with a desk like this."

"What else is upstairs?" Jennifer asked, stepping over a pile of wallpaper scraps.

"Ah, the master bedroom is around that corner, and there are a couple of spare bedrooms down the hall in the other direction. There is also a sewing room for Clara, and an entertainment room. That is, it will be an entertainment room by the time we finish with it. There is also a guest suite downstairs, which we did not pass. And, naturally, a laundry."

"Everything including the kitchen sink, eh Doc?" Marty said with a chuckle.

"It seems that way at times. Now, if you'll follow me down these stairs, we can look around the grounds."

After making their way outside, the group passed through a large stand of ancient pine trees, following a faint path barely worn in the carpet of brown needles. Jennifer sniffed at the ambient pine smell. "It's really lovely in the trees," she commented.

"Yeah, there's something peaceful about trees like these," Marty readily agreed. "I think it has something to do with the shade.

Emmet nodded as he lead the happy couple along the path. The track eventually curved around and emptied out of the woods a little way behind the house. Across a flat clearing stood a rustic looking stable.

"Neat," was Marty's quick verdict. "Are you guys going to get some horses some time?"

"We already have a couple of horses, actually.

"Really?" Jennifer answered with a dose of excitement in her voice. "Can I see them?"

"Certainly, if you'll just follow me."

"Hang on a second Doc. How can you be buying horses when you've only just moved in and you've been so busy rebuilding most of it?"

"Most? Hardly most of it," Emmet answered with a laugh. Actually, we've had these horses for a few years."

"A few... whoa, heavy."

"What, what is it?" Jennifer wanted to know.

"You brought the horses with you from the past, right?" Marty suggested.

"That I did. I simply converted part of the inside of the train's tender into a sort of horse trailer. Of course, I had to go easy on the acceleration and deceleration." By this time, the group had reached the stable, so Emmet threw open the heavy wooden door.

Marty stepped in to the dim enclosure. He chose not to comment on the obvious musty smell. However, Jennifer could not keep herself from falling into a fit of sneezing.

"I'll open a window," Emmet suggested. "This place seriously needs airing. Are you alright Jennifer?"

"I've been better. Where are the horses?"

"Towards the end. Here we are. This one is Mike, and that one is Tom."

"Nice, simple names," Marty commented. "I would have thought you would have given them names of scientists, like your dogs."

Emmet coughed slightly. "Well actually, they are named for Michael Faraday and Thomas Edison. But the boys chose to call them Tom and Mike, and it suits them. We used them for hauling a wagon back in the 19th century.

"They're gorgeous!" Jennifer exclaimed, giving Mike a neck rub. "I wish I had an apple to give them."

Emmet gave a guilty look and pulled a pair of shiny apples out of his pocket. "Would these do?"

"Oh, thankyou." The girl quickly fed the fruits to the golden-brown beasts, who munched them contentedly.

"We need to keep moving, if you want to get home. I'll show you a bit more of the land and then we can look in the barn before you leave."

Jennifer reluctantly left the horses and followed the others through a rambling garden.

Marty looked at the view of the hills, now that they were no longer in the confines of the pine trees. "Say, you're certainly close to the higher part of the region out here. Closer to the canyons, too."

"Yes, there are some nearby canyons, but they are fortunately outside the boundary of our property. As you can see, we have a lot of wooded land around the house, giving a lot of privacy."

"Yeah, that should stop hoods from vandalising your place, or people from spying on you to see what you're up to."

"Remember, you used to be one of those hoods, Marty."

"That was a long time ago, and I'm not particularly proud of it. Where's the barn?"

"Just over this rise."

"Rise? This is a hill," Jennifer complained.

"Don't quit now, we're already at the top," Marty joked."

Jennifer poked him lightly in the side with her elbow.

The barn was a large, two storey, affair of peeling red paint. Emmet opened the small side-door (unlocking a huge padlock) and motioned for the teens to venture in. Marty instantly saw the primary object stored in the barn: the time train. It rested in the centre of the enclosure in all its eerie glory. He stepped towards the special vehicle for a closer look.

"This is pretty unbelievable, Doc. I only saw it for a moment previously, and I've been constantly been wondering whether it was really as big and as, uh, interesting looking, as I remembered."

Emmet gave a wry grin. "Interesting looking?" he echoed. "Does that mean 'strange'?"

Marty mulled over the question for a moment, and then answered, "Nah, it's just unusual. I guess it would look more at home in a Jules Verne book. Nut really, it's nice. It's partly antique, partly futuristic, and highly 'Doc-esque'."

Jennifer laughed. "Whatever do you mean by that word, Marty?"

"It's just the sort of style that Doc likes to use. Too bad we never got to see the DeLorean and the train side-by-side."

"Well, that's probably a good thing. One time machine is bad enough, but having two... it makes my blood run cold."

"That's a scary thought Doc, but it might stop you from running around so fast. Sometimes I can barely keep up with you," Marty jested.

Emmet looked puzzled. "How would having two time machines help in that case?"

"No Doc, I mean the cold blood bit."

"Oh, right. An attempt at a joke. Would you like to see inside?"

"Just a quick look please Doctor Brown. We really must be going soon."

"As must I. Jules and Verne have some discipline heading in their direction." He opened the door by way of the remote in his pocket, and the trio climbed aboard. The scientist started pointing various parts out. "These are the time display wheels, which rotate to the correct position to show all those details. These typewriter keys are to enter the destination time. Here are the usual dials for the train's normal operation. After converting to fusion power in the future, I don't normally use these, but if something goes wrong, I can use steam for motive power."

"But doesn't the flux capacitor use fusion power too?"

"Yes, it does."

"So if the fusion generator thing didn't work, you could get to 88, but the flux capacitor couldn't work, right? Where is the flux capacitor?"

"It's in the back, in the tender. I originally had a bank of regular capacitors connected to a transformer system, which fed off a steam-powered generator I incorporated into the steam engine. I had enough wiring without connecting from the storage bank back across to the engine. So I put the flux capacitor in the tender. I left it in the same place when upgrading in the future, and I have connected it to a second fusion generator."

"That's smart. Imagine if the Mr. Fusion had been damaged when we were in 1885."

"Marty, don't," Jennifer warned. "You're scaring me."

"Sorry Jen. Doc, can we take a peek in the tender?"

"Certainly. I'll just open the main hatch for you." He walked around the long time vehicle to the back end of the tender, and inserted a strangely shaped key into a small slot. He twisted it in a number of different directions, pushing it in and releasing it in a complicated pattern. Finally, there was a loud click, and the hatch slowly lowered. Racks of various tools and supplies lined the inner walls, and Marty spied three glass tubes in a Y shape behind a wire mesh, fixed on the far wall."

He commented, "You could have a complete lab in here Doc."

Emmet laughed. "Not quite, but it would do if I was in a tight spot. As for my real lab, it will be here in the barn, after the rest of the house is done."

"That should give Marty plenty of work, shouldn't it Marty," Jennifer said with a smile.

"Uh yeah, I guess it will. I can help with the rebuilding a little too, if you like," Marty answered with almost full sincerity.

Emmet gave the teen a puzzled look. "Why do I get the feeling you are buttering me up for something?"

"Can I ask you a favour Doc?" Marty instantly replied.

"I certainly won't stop you from asking," his friend answered with a twinkle.

"Remember that band the other night, Kataclyzm?"

"Indeed I do. They were so loud -especially compared to the Pinheads - that it would be impossible for the occasion to pass out of my memory."

"I'll take that as a yes. Today I discovered that they released an album five years ago, which failed miserably. Only a handful of copies sold. So I got to wishing I'd bought one, just to see what they were like back then."

Emmet caught on quickly. "You want me to take you back a few years so you can buy yourself a copy?"

"Yes. Please, I mean. But not right now."

"Hmm. It sounds like it could be a good idea. Do you have a specific date, or do we need to do a little research to find when we need to go to?"

Marty was a little surprised that the Doc seemed to be encouraging the trip, and even more surprised that he had ended his sentence with a preposition. It showed he must be a little excited about the prospect of a little trip through time. Marty had the perfect time. "The fourth of April, 1980 should do the trick. I know the tape should be in the store then. But we'll need to rug up: it was really windy that day, trust me."

"Windy? That could be useful."

"Why?" both teens asked in unison.

"I constructed a kite for the boys, last century. They have been asking to take it for a fly, but we haven't experienced sufficient wind velocity for flight to be feasible. But an outing to the past would be a nice trip. We could turn it into a little picnic, if we take precautions. It would give us a break from building."

"So, should we do it tomorrow?"

"I see no arguments to the contrary. Come over at midday. Do you plan to join us Jennifer?"

The girl in question shook her head. "I'll be shopping with my mom tomorrow. I'm not sure if I like the idea of going back in time, either."

"Don't worry Jen. Everything's turned out fine before, and the world is a better place because of it."

"Look who's speaking. You're the one who nearly got shot a few times, almost got dropped in the ravine by an exploding train, got chased by Indians, got kissed by your mom, got attacked by Biff, need I go on?"

"Uh, I see your point. But that's all in the past, and the future and the present are a lot better because of it."

"True, but I'm still not in a hurry to go and mess with time again. As if running into my own, aged, self wasn't bad enough. We should really go now." She turned to their host. "Thankyou for showing us around like this Doctor Brown. Good luck managing those two sons of yours."

"I'll need it, so thankyou Jennifer. I'll show you the quickest way back to the entrance, where your truck is, Marty." The tall, white-haired man locked up the train and the barn. "Step this way." He led his young friends past some wild hedges and overgrown shrubs. "Goodbye, both of you. Marty, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye Doc, thanks for everything." Marty put his truck into gear and spun out onto the street, waving.


	4. New tape, new kite, new reality

Chapter 4

12:01 pm  
Nov 16 1985  
Hill Valley, California

"I'll fly it first."

"No, I will."

"C'mon Jules. I wanna fly it."

"Maybe Dad should fly it, to make sure it's safe," Jules said diplomatically.

"Maybe Jindor should fly it. But he would get blown away by the wind, and then the kite would get struck by lightning, so he would get sent on another adventure through time."

"Who is this Jindor, Verne? I am not familiar with his name."

"Oh, he's just an alien. He has bad luck, usually. But he always pro-boils."

Jules looked lost. Then he corrected, "I think you mean prevails. But there aren't any aliens, at least not around here."

"There are now. I'm writing a new comic, called 'The Adventures of Jindor the Unlucky'. He has red skin, and antennum-things."

"Antennae."

"Yeah. When's Marty going to get here?"

"As he arrives."

"When?"

"Any time."

"Not quite any time," Verne suggested. "He hasn't arrived now, or now, or..."

"Don't worry, he'll get here. He just isn't always punctual."

"Does that mean a flat tire? Wagons never had flat tires."

"No, it means he's often late. What you are thinking of is a puncture."

"Oh. Thanks. Hey, here's Marty! Do you think I can get his autograph?"

"What? Marty isn't a celebrity."

"Yeah, but he has a great band, and he was the first person to travel back in time."

"That depends on your definition of first. Dad had travelled back in time before Marty ever did."

"Whatever. Let's go out and say hi."

Both boys dashed out the front door to greet Marty, taking care to tread only on the half of the stairway that had been repaired. Marty got out of his truck and waved hello, walking over. "Hi Jules, hi Verne. What have you two been up to today?"

"I helped Dad paint some of the rooms this morning," answered Jules in a moderate tone. "May I ask what you have accomplished?"

"Sure. I managed to stay in bed until ten, and worked on a song I'm writing. I also thought about today's trip, and what I need to remember about staying out of the way of history while I do what I need to do. What have you done, Verne?"

"I tried to help paint too, but painting with just one colour is boring, so I helped Mom tidy the garden a bit, and did some washing with her. I also worked on my new comic. It's about an unlucky alien named..."

"We'd better go in and prepare to leave," interrupted Jules before his brother could launch into his ridiculous comic. "Dad will be waiting. Oh, he says Marty can put his truck in the garage. He calculated that it would be best to avoid leaving it out in the cold for a few hours."

"Okay, I won't hold him up any longer. Back in a moment." Marty drove his van into the Browns' garage and returned to the waiting boys. "Do you have your kite ready?"

Verne was more that happy to answer. "Yup, it's all packed. That was the first thing I did today, actually. Mom has a picnic lunch all ready," he added, bouncing to a new topic.

"I've never eaten anything she cooked, so it will be a new experience for me," Marty said with a smile. "It's kinda funny how she's been your mom for so long, yet I'd never heard of her a month ago. Tell me more about this alien, Verne."

Jules stifled a groan and vanished down a hall to change his clothes. Verne started spieling about Jindor and his lavender coloured friend, Nilintar, who liked to eat pine needles in her food for some reason. Marty laughed at the boy's humourous attempts until the pair reached the barn. Here, Marty found the time train making various odd noises as the electronics warmed. (Emmet was yet to replace the main wiring with a computer system, as he had intended.)

"Ah, there you are," Emmet greeted him with a warm smile. "Do you know what the best time to arrive would be?"

"Hmm. That depends on where we plan to go. If you want to fly the kite in the nature reserve out of town, we can go at a normal lunch time, eat, fly the kite while I buy the tape, and leave, without anyone finding us. Does that sound okay to you?"

"Yes, that plan is satisfactory. Are you sure your purchase will not cause any difference to the history of Kataclyzm?"

"Yes, I am. They did not sell many copies, but they sold enough that a single extra would make no big difference."

"Good to see you thinking. All we need now is the food. And Clara and Jules, of course."

The aforementioned family members walked into the barn just then, carrying a large wicker basket between them. Emmet motioned them to place it in the back of the train, and closed the hatch. Then he climbed into the cab to slowly drive the cumbersome vehicle out of the barn in a low hover. Marty shut the barn and climbed into the cab along with the other Browns. After Emmet had made certain everyone was present, and had given all the dials another check, he gave the thrusters a boost, sending the train flying over the treetops. He quickly passed over the nature preserve and sped up towards the required eighty-eight miles per hour.

Prepare yourselves for impending temporal displacement," Emmet warned. The passengers braced their bodies and nerves. Light and sound washed over the whole train as it passed through the fourth dimension, disappearing from 1985 and appearing just as quickly in 1980.

12:42 pm  
April 4 1980  
Hill Valley, California

If anyone had seen the small group picnicking in the woods, they would not have been at all surprised. Even if they had looked closely at their clothes, there was no cause for alarm or suspicion. A sample of their conversation might have raised some eyebrows, revealing that the old man was the father of the two young boys, and the teenager was his best friend.

But a quick peek in the trees behind them would have totally freaked out anyone. For the people stuffing themselves with sandwiches were of course the Brown family, plus Marty McFly, and the time-travelling train hidden in the trees was enough to knock the socks of any unsuspecting person, had they not already been blown off by the fierce wind.

Marty couldn't have been any more correct in his memory of weather on that day. The wind positively howled, and the time-travellers were glad they had heeded his warning to wear warm clothes. Marty was enjoying the change in the weather, it going from late Fall to early Spring.

"Thanks for the food Clara," Marty said when he had eaten his fill. "You don't often find sandwiches this tasty in any time period."

"Why, thank-you Marty. That is very kind of you to say. Are you going on your expedition into town now?"

"Yeah, buying the tape. I may as well do it right away. It'll be a bit of a journey, walking all the way into town, but it's the best way."

"Alright Marty," said Emmet, who was reaching for the kite. "Be careful. I'll see you in the future."

"You mean the past, Doc. We're in the past."

"Right."

Marty started his trek into the middle of Hill Valley, 1980.

12:53 pm  
April 4 1980  
Hill Valley, California

"Dingaling!" The small bell jingled, announcing the arrival of Marty McFly, aged 17 years. The teen looked around the music store, noting the changes that had accumulated over the past five years. The store still looked about the same, the main difference being the carpet, which had been replaced, the lighting, which had received a major overhaul, and the musical content.

Times and tastes had changed, even over the short period of five years. Marty looked over the racks with a grin, remembering the songs he had enjoyed in those past years.

"Excuse me, may I help you?" asked the clerk.

Marty turned, recognising Henry Phillips, who had run the store for years. "Ahh no, not right now. I'm just taking a look around for the moment. I'll call if I need anything."

"Uh, uh, yeah. Do that." Henry walked back behind the counter, a little shocked. The teen had taken the words right out of his mouth.

Marty browsed around the racks for another minute before looking for the Dizarsta album. His search came up empty. "Hey, Mr. Phillips," he called.

"Yeah?" Henry drawled.

"I was looking for this new album by someone called 'Dizarsta'. Would you know where it is?"

"Oh, that. They're in a box here on the counter."

"Oh, I forgot. I'll take one." Marty pulled a bill out of his wallet He had already checked whether the bill would be legal tender in 1980.

"Righto. Say, would you be related to the McFlys?"

"The who?" Marty said in a tone of mock ignorance.

"You don't know them?"

"I don't live around here."

"Oh, you looked a little familiar to me. Never mind, I'm just a lonely clerk. Now, your change should be... err..."

"Dingaling!" The small bell jingled, announcing the arrival of Marty McFly, aged 12 years. "Hi Mr. Phillips."

"Hi Marty," the clerk answered.

The older Marty gulped. He knew his younger self had come into the store this day, but he hadn't really expected to see himself. "No problem. I can just leave and my younger self won't know any better. Hang on..." A sneaky thought came into his mind.

"Anything new, Mr. Phillips?" the younger Marty asked.

"There should be a couple of things on the new rack, and I've got this on the counter." he answered, pointing to the box he had shown the older Marty just a minute before.

Young Marty took a quick look at Dizarsta album and shrugged. "I'll take a look on that new rack."

The longhaired clerk tried to figure out the change. Marty followed his younger self around the corner. The younger Marty noticed that he was being followed.

"Hey, do I know you?"

"Um, not really," Marty told himself. "I think I know your mother though."

"Oh." The younger Marty didn't know what to say next. There was an awkward pause, and he finally asked, "How do you know her?"

"Never mind that now. I need to tell you something."

"Yes?"

"You know Needles, right?"

"Needles?"

"I mean Doug Needles."

"Oh, him."

"He's gonna dare you to ride you skateboard while holding onto a car later today."

"What? How do you..."

"He's a bully. Bullies are predictable."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"You'll learn. Anyway, you need to do it."

"Why?"

"Otherwise, he'll tease you every day of your life, and be a real pain. If you do this, just this once, he should leave you alone."

"Okay..." the twelve-year-old said slowly. "But I can't do that."

"Sure you can. You'll be good at it. If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything."

"That's what my dad says."

"Yeah, I know." Marty turned back around and asked in a loud voice, "Have you figured out my change yet, Mr. Phillips?"

"Almost... Hang on, I think I've got it."

Marty went to collect his change, observing that Mr. Phillips had only kept his job due to his knowledge of music and his likable personality, not his math. "Get a calculator," he said on his way out. The younger Marty giggled a little at that crack, and picked out the tape he was looking for.

Outside, the temporally-displaced Marty felt quite pleased with himself. He had acquired a new tape, and possibly rid his past of the bullying of Needles. "Talk about killing two birds with one stone! I just hope I didn't actually kill anything."

With these thoughts, the teen wandered back through the streets, comparing the present state of Hill Valley to the other time periods he had visited recently. He also attacked the question of which time he liked best of all. A few minutes of careful consideration left him with the conclusion that each time had its own benefits, as well as several downsides. He finally decided that his own present was the most familiar time to be in, and the safest, as far as the safety of the universe went.

His journey brought him back to the nature preserve. He continued through the pine forest, expecting to hear the sounds of his friends flying their kite. He was not disappointed: he soon heard excited voices coming from the clearing ahead of him.

"... which allowed Verne to paint it," Emmet was just explaining. "In fact, I look on the blue and silver pattern as quite styling. Besides, the balsa wood construction makes the lift coefficients... Look out!"

Marty was close enough to detect the urgency in the scientist's voice. He also heard another sound: a rippling, rushing sound that was heading toward him from above. He realised the situation he was in and dove sideways, rolling in the pine needles and narrowly clearing a tree trunk.

"Thunk!" The kite hit the ground, naturally landing where Marty had stood moments before. The teen stood shakily, his head spinning due to the shock of his narrow escape and also due to the strange feeling of deja vu caused by the recent conversation.

"Phew, that was a close one," he declared after finding his balance.

"Is the kite okay?" asked Verne immediately.

"Uh, I'll check for you," Marty offered. He bent down for a close inspection. "Yes, it's fine. Ready?" He threw the kite back up into the air and ran over to the safety of the picnic rug.

Clara watched Verne for a moment, making sure he had control of the kite. Then she turned to Marty and asked, "Did you find what you wanted?"

"Yeah I did." Marty pulled the cassette out of his pocket and waved it around. "I can hardly wait to listen to it. How's the kite flying been going?"

Clara laughed. "It's a good thing Jules is an accomplished tree climber."

"Oh. How many times?"

"Approximately once every 4.7 minutes," Emmet replied.

"That bad?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Emmet checked one of his watches and called out, "Verne, time to hand the kite over to your brother. Jules, two more minutes until we want to start preparing to leave."

Verne deftly did as instructed, and Jules began performing fancy loops.

Emmet lowered his voice to a conversational tone and asked, "Marty, would you like to have a turn at piloting?"

"No thanks. Not today. Maybe I'll have a go in five years or so." He ended with a joking tone.

"It is good to see you are thinking fourth dimensionally, even if it is solely for the purpose of fun. I remember..."

"CraAAAak!" A nearby pine branch broke, interrupting the conversation.

"Jules, did ya hafta crash the kite just when we're 'bout to leave?" Verne whined.

"It wasn't me, it was this accursed gale."

"Jules, don't speak like that," reprimanded his mother sternly. "There is nothing wrong with the wind. Now go and get the kite down. Verne, stop gawking and help us pack away the picnic things."

"I'll help too," offered Marty. Verne and the trio sitting on the rug began to tidy away all traces of their visit to 1980.

Jules deftly scurried up the tree-trunk and carefully edged along the necessary branch. He reached out and grasped the corner of the kite. He pulled it toward himself, but it stuck fast. He gave it a yank and it moved down and sprang back up. "Hey everyone, it's stuck," he called down.

Receiving no immediate response, he started pulling the kite back and forth, rocking the branch that the string had caught around as the kite fell through the tree. As the limb began to swing wildly, the string began to pull loose. It was mostly off when... "Snap!"

"Jules!" everyone below yelled.

"Don't worry, " he called down to calm them. "Another branch broke and it missed me. Yeowww!"

The branch had sprung away from the tree, taking the tangled string with it. The string finally pulled tight and yanked Jules off his perch. He let go of the kite and grabbed onto the next branch down. He gingerly returned to the trunk and climbed down to the ground, a pained look on his face.

"Are you hurt?" asked his father, concerned.

Jules carefully raised his right arm. The skin had been scraped raw and blood had begun to drip from the wound.

"Great Scott! It looks terribly deep. We had better take you to a doctor immediately."

"Doc, how can we take him to a doctor? We're five years in the past for crying out loud. Don't you think people will ask awkward questions?" Marty protested.

"Don't worry, I plan to take him to a doctor in 1985. We can say he scraped himself climbing a pine tree, which is true, and understandable because there are plenty of pine trees at our house. In fact, we aren't far from the old Shinglehill Estate, as it was known until recently. Recently before the present, that is."

All this time, Emmet had been gradually walking toward the train. Now that he had snapped out of his explanation, he remembered what he had been about to say. "Clara, there is a box of first aid supplies in the back of the tender. Here's the key." He tossed her the key, continuing to hold Jules' wound shut with his other hand.

Clara worked the complicated lock open and located the items needed. Within a minute, Jules' scrape had been cleaned and was covered with a temporary bandage, awaiting stitches. Emmet ducked into the cab for a moment to let the circuits begin their warm up.

Marty and Verne made sure everything had been packed away, and waited in the cab for liftoff. Everyone else soon joined them, Clara holding her injured son in her lap. Jules managed to stay fairly calm despite the strong pains.

Emmet wordlessly flew the train into the air and accelerated through the time barrier. Jules bit his lip to stop himself from shrieking from the pain caused by the jarring. Clara comforted him by ruffling his hair and speaking to him in a soft, soothing voice.

The train paused outside the barn and Emmet let Marty out to open the doors. The train hovered gently in and came to a rest. Marty closed the huge double doors, thinking that Doc should get an automatically opening door.

"You wait here and I shall get the van," Emmet directed.

"What about me?" Marty asked.

"You should be getting home. I'll ring this evening to update you."

"Alright," Marty agreed. "Bye Jules. You'll be okay, I've done this sorta thing myself a number of times. C'ya Verne. Try to keep out of trouble. Clara?"

"Yes Marty?"

"Sorry this turned out so bad. I should really thank you again for the lunch."

"I'm glad you liked it. See you around, as they say in this time period."

Marty jogged back to the garage to retrieve his truck. On the way, he waved to Doc, who was driving his work van up from the garage to the barn. He started her up and drove back home, popping the Dizarsta tape into the player. He pulled into his driveway, after an uneventful and enjoyable drive. He ejected his new tape and dropped it into his jeans pocket.

As he walked up to the front door, he had the strangest feeling. He gave the garden a funny look. It seemed that Linda had been doing an awful lot of gardening. He shrugged and walked in the front door. Even stranger: some of the furniture seemed to be different to the way he remembered it being that morning.

"Who's there?" a girl's voice called from somewhere within the house.

Marty didn't recognise the voice, which also bothered him. Before he had much time to think, a girl about his age and height stepped around the corner out of the hallway.

"Marty! You're back! You're alive! Where have you been?" she exclaimed.

Marty didn't really know what to say. He had no idea who this girl was, despite the strange feeling of familiarity he felt. "Uh, been? I had lunch at Doc's place."

She gave him the funniest look. "What kind of story is that? You don't expect anyone to believe you, do you?"

"I don't understand. Why are you acting like I've been away for a month?" Marty responded, feeling muddled. He added mentally, "And who are you anyway?"

"But you have been away for... well, three weeks."

"WhAAT?" Marty fainted dead away.


	5. Shocks and partial explanations

Chapter 5

2:04 pm  
Nov 16 1985  
Hill Valley California.

"Mom, is that...? No it isn't," Marty muttered as he awoke. He stared at the strange girl who stood over him. He had the strange feeling that he should know her. She looked naggingly familiar, yet he was certain he had never met her before. He also noticed she was fairly cute.

"Are you okay Marty?" she asked in a concerned voice.

"Yeah, just a little shocked."

"Did you hit your head or something?"

"No, I'm not hurt at all. Jules hurt his arm though."

"When?"

"Today, of course."

"But where have you been for the last few weeks?"

"At home, and at school of course. What's it to you anyway?" he challenged, wanting to figure out who she was.

"Marty, don't you remember who I am?" the girl asked, catching on to his question.

"Uh, not really," Marty stammered in return.

"Amnesia, just like..." she murmured softly to herself. Then she answered, "I'm Catherine."

"So what are you doing here?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you at my house?"

"Because I'm your sister."

Marty considered fainting again, but decided against it. "What about Dave and Linda?" he finally asked.

"Dave's watching football with his buddies, and Linda's shopping with Mom."

Just then, a car pulled into the driveway.

"Correction: Mom and Linda just got home from shopping. Are you sure you don't know where you've been for the last few weeks?"

"I tell you, I didn't know I'd been gone," Marty asserted.

"In that case, you'd better make something up fast, to tell Mom. We'll talk about this later."

"Uh, yeah." Marty tried to think about what had happened. When he woke up that morning, he only had one sister, and he hadn't been missing. What had gone wrong? More importantly, why did Catherine look like she was his age?

He decided he would need to talk with Doc. For the time being, he needed an excuse. From the way Catherine had talked to him, it seemed like she knew more about the situation that she dared say. He finally decided on a simple, just believable story.

Excited talking in the living room told him that his mother would be joining him.

"Marty!" she spouted joyously as she appeared in the door. "You're back!"

"Yeah," Marty answered a little groggily.

"What, what happened to you? Where have you been?"

"Uh, I really don't know. I just woke up in the middle of a field next to my truck, so I drove home. I don't have the slightest clue what happened to me."

Lorraine's eyes went wide. "Did you hit your head?"

"I dunno. Maybe."

"Oh Marty! You know what the doctor said."

Marty had no idea what the doctor said, and he didn't want to ask, and he had no time to do so, due to an interruption.

Catherine was feeling just as confused as the person she thought of as her brother. She had just rung a friend to tell her that Marty was home. Next she dialled the number of the Brown household.

"Emmet Brown speaking."

"Doc, this is Catherine. Have you heard about Marty?"

"What about Marty?" Emmet asked, wondering who was ringing.

"He's come back. I don't know how he got back, and he doesn't know either. He doesn't even remember what happened at all. But he's definitely back!"

Emmet had no idea what this girl was jabbering on about. "Excuse me, I don't understand. Who is this?"

Catherine groaned. "I'm Catherine, Marty's sister. Did you hit your head too?"

"No, why should I have?"

"Because Marty doesn't remember me either."

Emmet thought for a moment. This phone call was quite unexpected and unpleasant. He tried to think of something to say.

Catherine couldn't stand the awkward pause, so she said, "I heard that Jules hurt his arm."

"Yes, the doctor put a few stitches in it. He'll be fine after some rest."

"Great. How did he hurt it?"

"He was climbing a pine tree and fell."

"Oh! The poor boy. Do you want me to tell Marty?"

"Tell him Jules is alright now."

"Okay. Um, so, about Marty being back..."

"Back from where? I don't really know what you are talking about. As far as I know, the only sister Marty has is Linda, and you sound nothing like her."

"But, how could you just go and forget like that?"

"I have no idea. Perhaps you should come over and we can talk about it in private."

"Uh, sure. I'll be right over." She paused for a moment. "You live at Century House, right?"

"Yes, I do. I'll expect you in a few minutes."

"Yes. Bye Doc."

"Er, goodbye Catherine."

Catherine hung up the phone and ran into Marty's room. "Mom, I rang Doctor Brown. Jules hurt himself and had to get stitches. I'm going over to see him, and I need to talk to Doc."

"Alright, just don't stay to late," Lorraine answered.

"Thanks Mom. Oh, and Marty..."

"Yeah?"

"I rang your girlfriend. She should be here soon."

"Thanks."

"Marty, I need to put the shopping away now, or Linda will get grouchy. Your father should be home soon though. Try to relax and see if you can remember anything," instructed Lorraine.

"I'll try," Marty promised half-heartedly.

Lorraine walked into the kitchen to find her daughters engaged in an argument.

"Mom, how can you let Catherine go out? She should help put the shopping away. It isn't fair," complained Linda.

"Linda, she's spent the whole morning cleaning. You spend most of it mooning over dresses. Do you understand?"

Linda nodded meekly. Catherine vanished out the door before her mother had a chance to change her mind. She jumped in her own vehicle, an old, deep purple two-door. The engine spluttered to life and the car vanished down the street.

A few minutes later, Catherine parked out the front of Century House. She walked up the half-repaired steps and knocked on the huge front door. She heard footsteps and the door quickly opened.

"You must be Catherine," said Dr. Emmet Brown.

"Yes, I am," she answered, a little nervously. "But I don't understand why you don't remember me."

"I don't understand it myself, so why don't you come in out of the cold and we can discuss it."

"Okay." Catherine followed the scientist into the living room and sat on the dusty lounge. "You said Marty was here for lunch, right?"

"Yes, I did, and he was."

"What did he do while he was here?"

"Nothing unusual."

"What in particular?"

"He didn't do anything in particular," Emmet answered stubbornly. "However, Verne nearly hit him with a kite."

"Kite?"

"Yes, the boys flew their kite today. In fact, Jules scraped his arm while retrieving the kite out of a tree."

"A kite? But there's hardly any wind, and it's cold!"

Emmet realised his error, so he tried to change the subject. "Yes, but it's not important now. You referred to Marty being 'back'. You could start by explaining where and when he left."

"October 26th."

Marty sat on his bed, wondering what to do. From his previous experiences, it seemed that something had gone wrong with the timeline. This reality seemed to be a lot better than the one where Biff had become rich, but it didn't bother him any less. It was rather unsettling to come home after lunch and be told that you had been gone for three weeks by a sister you never had.

He assumed from Catherine's words that she had some idea of what was going on, and was going to Doc's place to try to find the problem. He wanted to do exactly the same thing, but he didn't think there was much chance of sneaking out unnoticed. He decided to wait until Jennifer arrived.

It wasn't long before he heard another vehicle arrive. Someone dashed through the house and flew into the room. She made a beeline for Marty and threw her arms around him.

"Oh Marty! I've missed you ever so much! What happened to you?"

Marty stared at the girl in acute shock. She was Bess Tannen.

"Great Scott! October 26th! That was the day..." 

"That was the day Marty and I went back in time," Catherine finished.

"That was the day Marty went back in time. But as I never remember seeing you before, I certainly don't remember you going back in time. I didn't even expect you knew about time travel."

"Ooh, that would explain why you wouldn't tell me anything. So what happened that night as you remember it?"

"I sent Einstein forward in time by one minute, almost went to the future myself, and was killed by terrorists. Marty went back to 1955, caused some trouble with his parents, almost erasing himself, warned me about the terrorists, and came back ten minutes before he left with the help of the lightning bolt that struck the clock-tower. I returned him to his home and travelled thirty years into the future."

Catherine digested this information. "That's both similar and different to what I remember happening. Marty and I both went to the past, but only I ever came back."

"So he was stranded in 1955?"

"We think so. If he was still alive. At least, that's what you thought until this afternoon."

"Do you mean you don't really know what happened to him?"

Catherine shook her head. "We never managed to find him."

"Can you tell me as much of what happened as you can remember?"

"Yes, but it's a long story."

"I want to hear every word of it, as soon as my dear Clara gets us a drink. Would you mind asking her? She should be in the kitchen."

"Okay. Have you told her about me?"

"Yes, I have explained the situation."

"Good. This is weird: as far as I remember, I know Clara as well as I know some of my school friends, but she's never heard of me."

"It is quite unusual," Emmet observed. "I'll take some tropical punch. Clara made some for the picnic and we failed to drink it all."

"Okay. I'll have some of that too." Catherine walked to the kitchen, where she found Clara tidying away some picnic things. "Hi Clara," she greeted.

"Er, hello. It's nice to... meet you, although Emmet says you already know me."

"Yes, I do, but I'll try to remember that you don't. Doc told me to get some drinks, some tropical punch."

"Mmm, I wouldn't mind a spot of that myself. Just take some cups from this cupboard; I'll find he jug and join you in a moment."

"Okay, will do." Catherine found the cups and returned to the lounge room with Clara close behind her.

Emmet poured himself a large glass and said, "So Catherine, tell us what happened on October 26th."


	6. The story begins: October 26th

Chapter 6

Flashback

Sometime after 8:00 am  
October 25 1985  
Hill Valley California

"C'mon Marty, we need to get to school," urged Catherine.

"We've got plenty of time. It's not even 8 yet," corrected Marty, pointing to the myriad of clocks adorning the walls. "I'm gonna play some tunes."

"Fine then, go ahead. I'm going to do something useful."

"Like what?"

"Like try to clean up some of this mess."

"Clean whatever you like, just don't break anything." Marty walked over to the amplifier and started turning everything up.

"Marty, won't that be a bit loud?" called Catherine.

"Don't worry; I know what I'm doing." Marty plugged in his guitar and strummed a cord."

"Kathoom!" Marty flew across the room and landed against a bookcase.

"Marty! Are you okay?" Catherine ran over and started pulling papers off him. She was rewarded for her efforts by having a load of papers dumped over her.

"Riiiing!"

"Hey, it's the phone! I'll get it," cried Marty. He searched through the papers and answered the phone.

Catherine heard Marty's end of the conversation. "Yo. ... Hey, hey, Doc, where are you? ... Wait a minute, wait a minute. 1:15 in the morning? ... What's going on? Where have you been all week? ... Where's Einstein, is he with you? ... You know, Doc, you left your equipment on all week. ... Yeah, I'll keep that in mind. ... Right."

The clocks all struck 8 o'clock, startling Catherine slightly. She heard Marty say, "Yeah, it's 8 o'clock. ... Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Doc. Are you telling me that it's 8:25?"

"8:25? We'd better get out of here!" Catherine said in a shocked voice. Marty threw the phone down and they ran to Marty's truck.

They squealed into the school parking lot, running through the door just in time. A figure poked around the corner.

"Marty, Catherine, around here. Strickland's after you."

"Thanks Bess," said Marty as he ducked around the corner. "Can't talk now, gotta get to class. See you at the audition."

"By Marty," said Bess as he vanished down the hall.

Catherine and Bess walked the other way into their own class.

########

4:51 pm  
October 25 1985  
Hill Valley California

Catherine heard Marty's truck pull into the driveway. She ran to greet him at the door. "Hi Marty, how did the..." she noticed his downcast face, "...audition go?"

Marty shook his head. "Judges kicked us out before we got past the intro. We were too loud."

"Oh. Too bad. Well, there's always next time, and you're still sending that audition tape to the record company, right?"

"Look, I already went over all that once with Bess, alright?"

"Okay, I'll drop it. I'm just sorry I couldn't be at the audition."

"That's okay, there was nothing to see. Still, letterbox-dropping mustn't be much fun."

"No, I really don't understand what she and all the others in that society see in the clock-tower. I mean, like, it's broken. Who wouldn't want to fix it?"

"Shush Catherine, Mom might hear you, and then she'll start telling stories about herself at our age, for the thousandth time."

"That reminds me, are you and Bess still planning to go to the lake?"

"If we weren't, I'd be looking a heap more depressed than this."

"Oh. Say, I never got a chance to ask you what Doc rang about this morning."

"Oh, that. Yeah, I meant to tell you. Doc wants us to meet him at the Lone Pine Mall at a quarter past one."

"In the middle of the night?"

"That's what he said."

"Why?"

"I'd tell you if I knew. It must be something pretty big though. You know Doc's been in and out of town a lot for the last few months. Maybe he finally invented something that works."

"Who knows?"

"I guess we'll find out."

###########################

1:05 am  
October 26 1985  
Hill Valley California

"I said, it's time to wake up."

"Okay, okay. There's no need to wake the whole house."

"There will be if you don't get out of bed right now, Marty."

"Alright already. I'll be right out."

"I'll be waiting out the front door," Catherine answered as she left her brother's room.

#############

1:10 am  
October 26 1985

Hill Valley California

"Marty!"

"Huh?"

"You went back to sleep!"

"Did I?"

"Yessss."

"Oh, I guess I did. We'd better be going."

Catherine sighed in annoyance. She almost made a nasty comment, but was mercifully prevented by the ringing of Marty's phone.

Marty grabbed the phone and answered. "Hello." He looked at his watch. "Uh Doc, uh no. No, don't be silly."

Catherine rolled her eyes.

"Um, yeah, we're on our way." Marty hung up the phone. "Doc wants us to grab his video camera on the way to the mall."

Catherine mumbled something unintelligible to herself.

"Huh?" asked Marty.

"You told Doc you didn't fall asleep, right?"

Marty shrugged and left the room. Catherine followed, noticing his skateboard in his hand.

"You don't intend to skate all the way to the mall do you?"

"Just watch me."

"I don't think so, Marty. There's no way I'm running all the way to the mall. Besides, we don't have the time."

"Fine then, drive."

"Not my car. It'll wake the whole street."

Marty considered for a brief moment, and unlocked his truck. "Just give me a push out of the driveway. We can't be too careful."

Catherine wasn't sure that it was a good or necessary idea, but she figured they wouldn't get anywhere unless she played along. Fortunately, the slight slope of the driveway helped her push the vehicle into a very slow roll. Marty waited until he reached the middle of the street and started the engine. Catherine jumped in and gave him an annoyed look for making her do all that work. He pretended not to see it and drove to Doc's house.

Marty parked at the mall at exactly 1:15. "Whew, we're just in time for a change."

"No thanks to you," retorted Catherine. "Uh, could you please explain why you've parked at the opposite end of the mall to Doc's work van?"

"Catherine, he's testing an invention. I don't want my truck anywhere near, okay?"

"Good point. Hey, there's Einstein."

"Einstein, hey Einstein, where's the Doc, boy, huh?"

"He can't answer you," Catherine answered drolly."

"Not funny."

The doors of Doc's big van opened and wisps of smoke or fog wafted out. A strange looking car reversed out, travelling down the ramp and onto the asphalt.

"Interesting numberplate," observed Catherine, seeing the letters 'OUTATIME'. "I wonder what it means."

The gull-wing door of the car opened and Doctor Emmet L. Brown stepped out.

"Doc?"

"Hi Doc!"

"Marty, Catherine, you made it!" Emmet greeted warmly.

"Yeah!"

"Eventually."

"Welcome to my latest experiment," Emmet began. "It's the one I've been waiting for all my life. "

"Um, well it's a DeLorean, right?" Marty asked.

Emmet had more important things to do than answer questions. "Bear with me, Marty, all of your questions will be answered. Roll tape..."

"Okay."

" ...and we'll proceed."

"Doc, is that a De..."

"Never mind that now, never mind that now."

"All right, I'm ready."

"You're never ready," Catherine said under her breath.

Marty didn't hear her, but Emmet gave a small chuckle before starting his speech. "Good evening, I'm Dr Emmett Brown. I'm standing on the parking lot of Twin Pines Mall. It's Saturday morning, October 26th 1985, 1:18am and this is temporal experiment number one. C'mon, Einie."

"What's Einie doing in the car?" Catherine wondered.

"Just watch and you'll see. Hey, hey boy, get in there, that a boy, in you go, sit down, put your seatbelt on, that's it!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, OK."

Catherine giggled.

"Please note that Einstein's clock is in complete synchronisation with my control watch. Got it?"

"Yep, it looks like it to me," Catherine confirmed.

"Good. Have a good trip Einstein, watch your head." Emmet carefully shut the door and pulled out a remote control unit.

"You have this thing hooked up to the car?" asked Marty, rather befuddled.

"Watch this," answered Emmet again.

"Yeah, OK, got it."

The car unexpectedly started driving, being controlled by Emmet's remote.

"Hey, that's neat!" Catherine exclaimed, stepping forward.

"No, step back there, you're in the way of the camera. No Marty, keep it on the car."

"Oh, sorry," apologised Catherine, stepping back. She watched the car skid around the parking lot. "But whatever is this supposed to prove?"

"Just setting up, testing the acceleration and handling. Now, if you'll join me over here..."

Catherine and Marty followed Emmet across the empty parking lot. "Uh, you do know the car is pointed towards us?" she warned as the scientist revved the engine and spun the wheels madly.

"If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits 88 miles per hour, you're gonna see some serious... er..." he searched for an appropriate word. "Just watch."

Catherine mumbled something pessimistic about his calculations as he released the break. The car shot forward, accelerating rapidly. Catherine and Marty started to edge out of the way.

"Watch this, watch this," Emmet urged, motioning the siblings closer. The digital speed readout on the controller gradually increased until it hit eighty-eight. Light flashed over the car for a moment and it vanished into a bright cloud with a loud whoosh. A trail of fire ran by either side of the scientist, Catherine and Marty jumping out of the way either side of him.

The number-plate had managed to disconnect itself and escape from the fate of the rest of the car. It now spun and rattled on the ground. Emmet looked both directions before joyously proclaiming, "Ha, what did I tell you, 88 miles per hour! The temporal displacement occurred at exactly 1:20am and zero seconds!"

Marty stepped over to pick up the OUTATIME plate, but Catherine beat him to it. She dropped it instantly, yelling, "Ouch, hot!"

Marty wasn't particularly pleased with the result either. "Doc, you... you disintegrated Einstein!"

"Calm down, Marty, I didn't disintegrate anything. The molecular structure of Einstein and the car are completely intact."

"Where the... um, where are they?"

Catherine shook her head.

"The appropriate question is, _when_ are they! Einstein has just become the world's first time traveller! I sent him into the future. One minute into the future to be exact. And at exactly 1:21 AM we should catch up with him and the time machine."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, Doc, are you telling me that you built a time machine... out of a DeLorean?"

"The way I see it, if you're gonna build a time machine into a car, why not do it with some style? Besides, the stainless, steel construction made the flux dispersal..." Emmet suddenly checked his watch. "Look out!" He pushed Marty sideways.

Catherine was confused for a moment, but it suddenly clicked. She wisely covered her eyes, just in time. There was a bright flash and all manner of noise. She looked up to see the DeLorean skidding across the parking lot. Emmet walked up and touched it, extremely briefly.

"What, what is it hot?" Marty asked in concern.

"No, it's cold, er, extremely cold." He released the door. "Ha, ha, ha, Einstein, you little.. fella. Einstein's clock is exactly one minute behind mine, it's still ticking."

"Ooh!" observed Catherine. She watched the dog run to the van. "He's alright."

"He's fine, and he's completely unaware that anything happened. As far as he's concerned the trip was instantaneous. That's why Einstein's watch is exactly one minute behind mine. He skipped over that minute to instantly arrive at this moment in time. Come here, I'll show you how it works."

Catherine and Marty moved in to get a good view and listened to the scientist's spiel. "First, you turn the time circuits on."

"Looks pretty," observed Catherine.

"This readout tells you where you're going, this one tells you where you are, this one tells you where you were."

"Don't you mean 'when'?" asked Catherine, rather pointedly."

"Precisely. You input the destination time on this keypad. Say, you wanna see the signing of the Declaration of Independence..." He entered in July 4th 1776. "...or witness the birth or Christ." He entered in December 25th 0000.

"Assuming that was the right date, and supposing you could find your way to Bethlehem," interrupted Catherine.

"Yes, there is that little difficulty. Here's a red-letter date in the history of science, November 5th 1955."

"Hey, that's the day our parent's met," Marty piped up, trying to be helpful and not being.

"Yes, of course, November 5th 1955!" Emmet finally realised.

What, I don't get it. What was important to the history of science?" Marty said, perplexed.

That was the day I invented time travel. I remember it vividly. I was standing on the edge of my toilet hanging a clock, the porcelain was wet, I slipped, hit my head on the edge of the sink. And when I came to, I had a revelation, a vision, a picture in my head, a picture of this."

"A glowing 'Y', how useful," joked Catherine.

"This is what makes time travel possible. The flux capacitor."

"The flux capacitor," echoed Marty.

Catherine nodded, "I knew it was important. Odd name though."

"Vitally important. It's taken me almost 30 years and my entire family fortune to realise the vision of that day. My... goodness, has it been that long? Things have certainly changed around here. I remember when this was all farmland as far as the eye could see. Old Man Peabody owned all of this. He had this crazy idea about breeding pine trees."

Catherine laughed out loud. "Judging from the name of the mall, he mustn't have been very successful."

"No, he claimed aliens attacked his trees."

Marty shrugged and said, "This is uh, this is heavy duty, Doc, this is great. Uh, does it run on regular unleaded gasoline?"

"Unfortunately no, it requires something with a little more kick - plutonium!"

"Uh, plutonium, wait a minute, are you telling me that this sucker's nuclear?"

Catherine gave a reproving cough at his choice of words.

Emmet noticed his assistant had stopped recording. "Hey, hey, keep rolling, keep rolling there. No, no, no, no, this is electrical. But I need a nuclear reaction to generate the 1.21 gigawatts of electricity that I need."

"Doc, you don't just walk into a store and, and buy plutonium! Did you rip this off?"

"Of course: from a group of Libyan Nationalists. They wanted me to build them a bomb, so I took their plutonium and in turn gave them a shiny bomb case full of used pinball machine parts!"

"Sneaky. Wait, you did a deal with terrorists?" Catherine asked in a shaky voice.

Emmet seemed not to hear. "You'll each need to get into a radiation suit, so I can reload."

"Reload?" echoed Catherine.

"I think he means he's about to stick more plutonium in it," Marty clarified.

"Oh, in that case, a radiation suit would be a good idea. I hope it fits."

Marty snickered, but fortunately both radiation suits fit well. Emmet slid on a pair of gloves, and carefully loaded a plutonium pellet into his reaction chamber.

"It that a normal nuclear reactor?" Catherine asked.

"No, otherwise it would be either a bomb or a power plant. I had to develop a special energy extraction system, which... but never mind that now." He locked down the cover on the reactor as he spoke. "Safe now, everything's lead lined. Don't you lose those tapes now, we'll need a record."

"Why do you need a record?" Catherine asked.

"You certainly have a lot of questions for this time of night," Dr. Brown answered with a laugh. "What would be the point of making a great discovery like this and not recording it? Now look what I nearly did: I almost forgot my luggage. Who knows if they've got cotton underwear in the future? I'm allergic to all synthetics." He placed a suitcase into the DeLorean.

Marty picked up on an interesting word. "The future, that's where you're going?"

"That's right, 25 years into the future. I've always dreamed on seeing the future, looking beyond my years, seeing the progress of mankind. I'll also be able to see who wins the next 25 World Series."

"Uh, Doc," Marty began, a little hesitantly.

"Huh?"

"Uh, look me up when you get there."

"Me too," added the excited Catherine, who was wishing _she_ was going to the future.

"Indeed I will. Roll 'em."

Marty restarted filming.

"I, Dr Emmett Brown, am about to embark on an historic journey," he began. Suddenly he gave a laugh at his own carelessness. "What am I thinking of, I almost forgot to bring some extra plutonium. How did I ever expect to get back? One pellet, one trip! I must be out of my mind!"

Einstein started barking, having noticed something.

"What is it Einie?" his master asked. He turned, and saw a blue and white van pull into the mall. "Oh my God, they found me, I don't know how but they found me. Run for it guys!

"Who, who?" the siblings asked together.

"Who do you think, the Libyans!"

"Holy..." Marty was interrupted by Catherine's elbow.

"How many times do I need to remind you to watch your mouth?"

"What makes you think I was about to...?"

"I just know!"

"This is no time to worry about language!" argued Marty as he pulled his sister behind the van.

"I'll draw their fire!" their fried suggested. He pulled out his pistol and fired the few shots it held.

"Doc, wait!" Marty yelled, but it was too late.

'Doc' threw his gun down. He collected several shots from the terrorists and fell to the ground, dead.

Catherine covered her eyes in horror, ignoring her brother's language. The Libyans spotted the pair and took aim. Marty froze, completely losing hope. Catherine opened her eyes and sincerely wished she hadn't. Then some sort of protective instinct took over and she started to run, dragging Marty with her.

This heroic effort would have been completely in vain, had not the Libyan's gun chosen that moment to jam. The teens ran for the DeLorean, having enough time to climb inside and start her engine. Marty found he still had the camera, so he tossed it to his sister and hit the gas.

He was not a moment too soon. The Libyans were right behind him, yelling. Marty had to keep speeding up as the terrorists gained ground. Finally his fear outweighed his sense of safe driving. "Let's see if these b..."

"Marty!"

"We'll see if they can do ninety." He sped up even further, starting to lose the pursuing Libyans.

As he approached ninety, Catherine noticed the state of the time-circuits. Her eyes flickered to the digital speed readout. "Uh, Marty, we're about to..."

Marty made sure he wasn't about to hit the photo stand.

"Flash! Rumble, rumble. Thump!" The parking lot vanished in a bright blue flash.

Marty found that the photo stand was the least of his worries: a scary face stared at him through the windshield. "Aaaah!"


	7. Aliens, pines, cafes and a Future Girl

Notes to reviewers:  
Since I've finally caught up my updates with the amount I've written, I'm able to respond to reviewers!

Anakin McFly:  
You aren't the only one now, but not my much. Make up your own score, or see if I can hum loud enough for you to hear me.

daveykins:  
Glad you found it. I put a lot of work into my alternate universes. In fact, they were a primary motivator in writing. Here's more. I think it fits into your liking of my alternate universes well.

TPolTucker:  
Well, we can't just leave everyone in this mess can we? Nah, better fix whatever is wrong.  
But whatever is wrong? You'll hafta wait to find out.

I'm gunna be late for my math lecture, so I'd better submit this...

Chapter 7

End Flashback  
November 16 1985  
Hill Valley California

Catherine paused in her story for a moment, giving Emmet Brown a chance to comment. "That was much the same as what I remember happening, apart from your presence. Our language certainly wasn't quite as clean, as I remember. Also, Marty's girlfriend was Jennifer Parker, not Bess Tannen."

"Jennifer? I know of her, she's a nice person and a good student, although she usually keeps to herself."

"Interesting. So, tell us how Marty came to be... lost."

"Alright, here goes. It isn't the most pleasant of memories, but here goes."

################

Flashback  
November 5 1955  
Hill Valley California

"Aaaah!" The scarecrow finally fell off the windshield, leaving Marty and Catherine a clear view of...

"AAAAAH!" ...a barn looming in front of them. The DeLorean crashed straight into the centre of the barn doors.

Lights flickered on in the nearby farmhouse. A family soon arrived at the barn to investigate.

"Pa, what is it? What is it, Pa?" the woman asked.

"Looks like an airplane, without wings," the farmer answered.

His son had other ideas. "That ain't no airplane, look!" He held up comic depicting an alien and a space ship, looking a little like the DeLorean.

"Ahh!" his parents cried.

"Children!" the farmer added protectively.

Meanwhile, Marty was wondering where he was. Catherine, on the other hand, was too shocked to even start thinking. Marty opened the door and half climbed, half fell, out of the car, lifting the mask on his radiation suit to get a better view. He saw the family leaving. "Listen, whoa. Hello, uh, excuse me. Sorry about your barn."

The family certainly knew what to do. The farmer and his son returned with firearms. The boy instantly evaluated the situation. "It's already mutated into human form, shoot it!"

Marty didn't like the sound of that and began to retreat.

The farmer didn't like the look of that and yelled, "Take that you mutated son of a..."

"Watch your mouth!" called an unexpected feminine voice from within the car.

The farmer was temporarily perplexed and Marty was able to stumble back into the car and drive it out of the barn. He spun around several times, trying to find his way out. He somehow managed to avoid the trigger-happy farmers and finally found a way out of the farm, crushing a small pine tree. The farmer squeezed off one last lucky shot – or maybe not so lucky. The letterbox, reading 'Peabody', exploded into woodchips. Catherine chose to ignore the farmer's yells as the DeLorean roared past the sign reading 'Twin Pines Ranch'.

"Calm down Marty, slow down! Do you want to get us killed?" Catherine warned.

"Uh, me?"

"Of course. Who do you think I'm talking to?"

"Seeing as we just found ourselves in a barn and got chased out by a farmer with a shotgun, no, I don't know who you're talking to."

"Marty, this isn't a dream."

"Yes it is."

"No it isn't."

"Yes it... well, how could it not be a dream?"

"Never mind, you'll figure it out by yourself, if you ever do."

Marty felt he had been insulted, but he ignored it and continued driving."

After a few minutes, Catherine asked an important question. "Do you know where we are?"

"I think I do. I've seen a couple of familiar landmarks."

"Do you know where you're going?"

"Hopefully, we'll end up back home."

"I wouldn't count on it," his sister cautioned.

"Why not? Here's the entrance to Lyon Estate. Oh!" Marty skidded the DeLorean to a sudden stop. "Where... what happened?" He jumped out, whacking his head, and scanned his eyes over the bare ground and earthmoving equipment. He noticed the large billboard reading "_Lyon Estates. Live In The House Of Tomorrow Today!_"

"Tomorrow today? This is crazy! How... wait, don't tell me. Ummmm..." he looked back inside the DeLorean.

Catherine flipped the time circuits on. "Is this what you wanted to see?"

"No, that is _not_ what I wanted to see. Hang on; did you do that on purpose?"

"Certainly not - I tried to warn you, but you were sorta distracted by the Libyans."

"You might have told me sooner."

"True, but I wasn't sure if you would believe me. Anyhow, you know now."

"Right, so let's go back now. To 1985. If we got here by accident, I'm sure we can get back easily enough."

"Unfortunately, it won't be that easy. Remember what Doc said about plutonium?"

"You mean the bit about 'one pellet one trip'?"

"Yes, that bit," Catherine confirmed.

"But that can't be. We can't be stuck thirty years in the past."

"Can't we?"

"We'll... now that you mention it... but how could a thing like this happen? I mean, we're trapped in the past. How can that possibly be?"'

"Look, it was an unfortunate accident, and there's no way to change that. We're definitely here, and no amount of denial will get us back home."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No, it was supposed to make you start thinking practically. We need to consider our options."

"Options? We're trapped in the past and you talk about options?" Marty asked in disbelief.

"Well, what do you think we should do?"

"We need to get help," Marty answered shortly.

"From whom?"

"Doc of course. He should be alive around here somewhere. Let's drive into town and look for him. He should be able to figure out how to fix this mess."

"Drive? This car does stand out a little."

"True," conceded Marty, turning the key in the ignition. "Not to mention the fact that the engine's dead," he added. His sentence was followed by a beeping sound.

"What did you do to it?" Catherine asked.

"Ahhh, nothing. It just says we're out of plutonium. I think we should push the car behind the signboard and try to cover it up."

"Not _more_ pushing?"

"Fine, I'll push, you steer."

The time-trapped siblings managed to conceal the time machine effectively and began to walk into town.

"Man, they've sure cleaned up this town," Marty observed. "Just look at it."

"Cleaned? Marty, you need to remember what year it is."

"Oh. I get it."

"You'd better."

"Why do you always seem to figure this out before me?"

"No idea. Hey, look at that gas station. No one would get service like that in our time."

Marty shook his head. "They really had it good back then. I mean, back now."

A van drove by, campaigning for Red Thomas for mayor. Catherine though it funny. "That's pretty much identical to Goldie Wilson's campaign in our time. And look, the clock's running."

"Yeah, it has another week 'til it stops."

"And twelve hours, thirty four minutes," added Catherine.

"Yeah, not that it matters. I still don't see why people care about it."

"It was the night of the Enchant..."

"Would you shut up about the dance? I know it actually happens in a week, but it makes me feel weird to think about our parents at our age."

"Hmm."

"Hmm? What is that supposed to mean?"

Catherine gave a sly smile. "We could go and watch..."

"No! I don't care, and it's none of your business. Besides, we'll be back home by then."

"Home? If we leave, we won't be anywhere then."

"You know what I mean. Now can we concentrate on getting home?"

"Sure. I guess we should go that way to get to Doc's place," she said, pointing down a street.

"Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure. Doc's place is right next to the Burger King."

"I don't know if they had Burger King in the 50's. And didn't Doc live in a mansion that got burned down?"

"Yeah, but it was in the same place as the Burger King is. I mean, it is in the same place as the Burger King will be."

"Still, the streets look a bit different, so I'll ask someone. Hey mister!" he called to a businessman.

"Yes?"

"It that the way to John F. Kennedy Drive?"

"Excuse me? The way to where?"

"John F. Kennedy Drive."

"Never heard of it."

"Oh. It was a block past Maple last time I was there."

"Maple? A block past Maple is Riverside Drive."

"Really? Thanks, uh, that was a big help."

"You're welcome." The man walked on, giving an odd look at the teens' clothes. "The things kids wear on ships," he muttered.

"Well sis, I guess we'll need to look him up. John F. Kennedy Drive doesn't exist," Marty reiterated.

Catherine considered that for a moment. "It could have been renamed. I think we should just look in the same place."

"Nah, we might end up lost. I'll try looking up his number and giving him a call."

"Call Doc? He won't know who you are."

"It wouldn't hurt to try. And it would be better to call him than to just turn up at his house. I'll just pop into that Cafe and find a phone."

"Cafe? Oh, the gym used to be a cafe. Interesting. I still think it would be quicker just to head straight over there."

"No, we should call him first, to let him know we're coming and to make sure we have the directions straight."

"Fine have it your way. Call Doc and tell him you're coming, and get exact directions."

"You're telling me I can?"

"Yes."

"Well, I don't need you to tell me what I can do, but thanks anyway," he answered a little viciously. He started to walk towards the cafe. "Hey, why are you just standing there?"

"Because I'm going straight over there by myself. Tell Doc I'll be there before you."

"Hey! You can't just run out on me," Marty protested.

"I can and I am. I don't need you to tell me what to do." She turned on her heels and strode off in a huff.

Marty shrugged and entered the cafe.

##########

End Flashback  
November 16 1985  
Hill Valley California

"And that was the last time I saw him," Catherine summed up sadly. "That is, until today."

"Hmm. That raises some interesting questions," Emmet noted.

"What questions are those?"

"In particular, how did I meet Clara? As I remember, it was due to actions of Marty in 2015, 1955, and 1885. Also, there is the question of how all this change was caused."

"Obviously, it had to have been caused by time travel. Have you done any time travel recently?"

"Actually, we went on a trip today, a picnic lunch to 1980."

"That must have been it. Now, what is the main change you have observed after that trip?"

"The primary difference I have observed is your presence. Also, the role of Bess Tannen as a friend of Marty is a major difference."

"So they must have been caused by something that happened on your trip to 1980."

Emmet didn't agree. "That would only make sense if you were a bit younger than five years old. Obviously you are not. That begs the question: why are you so close in age to Marty?"

"Before you start theorising that I was adopted, I should tell you that Marty and I are twins."

"Now that is quite remarkable. I remember that Marty had twins when I went to 2015."

"Wait a second; you said that Marty went to 2015 with you."

"Yes, I took him and Jennifer with me on my second trip."

"That is quite different to how I remember things."

"Perhaps you'd better tell that story too."

"Yes, I'm getting there." She went back to her tale.

##########

9:40 AM  
November 5 1955  
Hill Valley California

Catherine eventually reached Riverside Drive, where she quickly located Doctor Brown's family mansion, just where she expected to find it. She walked up to the front door, a little timidly, and knocked.

After waiting for a moment, she knocked a little louder. She still received no reply. A further wait yielded no results. She finally gave up waiting and tried the door handle. It turned easily; she pulled the door open and stepped inside.

"Hello? Doc? Doctor Brown? Anyone home?" she called. No one answered. Catherine was at a loss for what to do next. She finally decided to look around the house. She remembered from Doc's 'lecture' that this was the day that he invented time travel. He was sure to be at home, although it was likely that he had locked himself away in a lab somewhere.

She wandered around, checking any rooms to see if Doc was in there. She looked around herself, noting the way in which the house was organised, but not especially tidy. Finally, she came across a door at the back of the house, from which a voice could be heard arguing with itself.

She knocked lightly on the door. The voice suddenly stopped. "Who's there?" came Emmet Brown's voice. "No, wait, don't tell me anything. He opened the door and beckoned her inside. Some sketches were spread across a large table, and various books, papers, and gadgets littered the shelves.

"Don't say a single word, miss. I'll just put this on." He picked up some sort of helmet with wires sticking out from it and placed it on his head. He stuck some sort of suction cup onto her forehead.

"Uh, what exactly is this for?" Catherine asked, a little nervously.

"Don't worry, I merely intend to read your mind."

"_What?_"

"Quiet now; don't you tell me a single thing. Let's see... you've come a long way..."

"Yes, and I need..."

"Don't tell me. You want me to buy a subscription to... to _California Women's New Fashion_ magazine."

"No Doc, I'm from the future. I came here in a time machine that you are going to invent. Now I really need your help so we can get back to the year 1985."

"We? Who is 'we'?"

"My brother Marty and I. I'm Catherine. We're twins. I guess you didn't get his call."

"Call?"

"He was going to telephone you. I guess you must have been busy in your lab."

"Quite likely, if he did indeed attempt to call me. However, I do not happen to believe your story."

"What don't you believe about it?"

"If I ever happened to invent a time machine, which I doubt, why would I allow a teenager and her brother, also a teenager, to travel back in time by thirty years to this very day? It's preposterous."

"It was an accident."

"I'm sure it was. Now, I don't want a subscription thankyou, so could you please..." the scientist suddenly realised something. "How did you get inside?"

"Oh, I knocked and called for ages, but you didn't answer so I came inside to look for you. The door wasn't locked. Now you really need to help us, you're the only one who could figure out how to get us back home."

"This is some prank to discredit me, is it not?"

"No, I can prove it. Just look at my drivers licence." Catherine fumbled in her pocket. "I'm sure I had my wallet."

"Yes, I'm sure you did. How convenient. No, I'm very busy. Leave the way you came in."

"But..." Catherine protested.

Emmet took her by the hand and started to lead her out of the room. Before they could get very far, there was a soft knock at the door. Emmet strode forward to answer it, momentarily forgetting Catherine. He flung open the door. A pleasant faced, redheaded girl, of similar age and greater height than Catherine, nimbly jumped out of the way of the door.

"Uh, hi!"

"Yes? Do you wish to sell me something also?"

"No, no. You see, I saw a girl walk in here, and I think she dropped her wallet. I found a wallet and I think she dropped it. Do you know where she is, so I can give her the wallet back? Because she would certainly be in a spot of trouble without her wallet."

"Well, actually, I believe..."

The girl noticed Catherine moving behind the scientist. "Hi. I think you dropped your wallet. Is this your wallet?"

"Yes, that's my wallet."

"Great. Here's your wallet. Take care of your wallet. You wouldn't want someone to take your wallet, would you? Be more careful, or someone might take your wallet and you might never get it back. It would be terrible to..."

"Yes, thankyou for the wallet and the advice. Goodbye."

"Um, goodbye. Nice wallet."

Emmet pulled the door closed, making the girl jump back out of the way to avoid having her nose shut in it. "Well, it seems like you did lose your..."

"If I hear the word 'wallet' again today, I shall go mad." Catherine declared. "Here's my driver's licence. Look at the dates."

"Interesting, but not conclusive. You could have had it made somewhere."

"What's the big problem with believing me? You did invent the flux capacitor, after all."

"How could you possibly know..."

"You told me yourself, in the future. You were hanging a clock, and you stood on the edge of your toilet and slipped. You bumped your head, and when you woke up, you had a picture in your head of the flux capacitor."

Emmet's eyes widened, and he grinned broadly. "That's exactly what happened. You _are_ telling me the truth. So tell me, Future Girl, where is your time machine?"

"We hid it at the Lyon Estate development."

"Hmm. You said there was some problem with it?"

"Yes, a power problem. And the engine wouldn't start, but it'll probably come good. The starter's a bit dodgy."

"Starter?"

"Yes, you built the time machine into a car."

"A car? As in, a vehicle we can drive on the road?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't do that in broad daylight. It looks different to the present day cars, and it might startle some people."

"Very well. We can retrieve it tonight. In the meantime, I must finish drawing my diagrams."

"Sure, go ahead. What about me?"

"Hmm, yes. I'm sure you could find some books to interest you, or watch the television."

"Maybe I should go out and find what's taking Marty so long."

"No, this Marty of yours can find himself well enough. I don't want you going outside during the day."

"I can't go out?"

"No, I won't take the risk. Remember, you are from the future. Anything you do in this time period could affect your present. You must avoid interacting with anyone. Have you had any interactions with the people in this time?"

"Well, Marty asked someone for directions, that redhead found my... well, I needn't say it again. Oh, and we ran over a pine tree."

"A pine tree?"

"Yes, at the Peabody Ranch. There were two of them, but we ran one over. The funny thing is, the place in the future we left was called Lone Pine Mall."

"Interesting. Still, you must not interact any further, especially dressed like that. I suppose those clothes are from 1985."

"Yes, they are."

"I'll leave you to find something to read. I'll be in my lab if you need anything."

"Sure." Catherine picked up a random book to read. Fortunately, it was a Western novel Emmet had in his collection.

#########

5:30 PM  
Nov 5 1955  
Hill Valley California

"Where is he?"

"Where is who?"

"Marty."

"Your brother?"

"Yes. He's the only Marty I would be worried about."

"Of course. Unfortunately, I have no idea of his disposition."

"I'm worried about him. He should have been here simply _hours_ ago. What could have happened to him?"

"I understand your worry. I worry about what he could be doing to history. However, we have no idea of where he could be, and we can't just run around town asking for him. That would cause more trouble than it solves. No, we must keep our eyes and ears open."

"I wish I hadn't argued with him now. If I'd just gone with him into that cafe, we would have arrived a few minutes later, but we would have arrived together." She gave a sad sigh. "There's no point in worrying about that now."

"No, we must go and retrieve this time machine you came in. Possibly your brother returned and has been waiting there for us."

"Do you really think so?" Catherine asked excitedly as she climbed into Dr. Brown's car.

"It is possible."

The scientist and the time-travelling teen arrived at the entrance to the site of Lyon Estate. Catherine showed her companion where the time machine was hidden.

"Remarkable. It is a vehicle of beauty, is it not?"

"Yes, it is. I'll show you inside." She opened the gull-wing door. "Fortunately, I made Marty give me the key, because he's always losing his. If I hadn't thought about it... we would be locked out. Oh, where is Marty?"

But Emmet was more interested in the interior of the time machine. "What is this dark panel for?" he asked.

"Oh, that's the display for the time circuits. You turn them on with that switch."

Emmet did so and was rewarded with a beep and the sight of the displays lighting up. "Remarkable. So you left in the middle of the night?"

"Yes, you had just done your first experiment, which was successful."

"And the flux capacitor?"

"Look behind you."

He looked, and his mouth popped open. "This is remarkable! To have an idea and see the result on the same day! Look here, this is what I drew." He pulled a paper out of his pocket.

"Identical," affirmed Catherine in a reverent voice.

Something clicked in the inventor's brain. "It works! I finally invented something that works!"

"You bet your family fortune it works," Catherine muttered. "Let's see if it starts." She turned the key, but the engine wouldn't turn over. "Hmm. The starter could be jammed. The guy who waxes our car told me that. Do you have some sort of mallet?

"Yes, there should be a wooden mallet in the tool-kit behind the seat. Excuse me while I find it."

Catherine looked for a lever to release the bonnet. She found one and pulled it. There was a satisfying click from the front of the car. She ran around the front and lifted up the bonnet. "Uh, do you know what the starter motor looks like?"

"It should be a round cylinder near the engine block somewhere."

Catherine searched around in the dim light. "I'll need to wait for the torch to find it."

"I'll do it if you like. Do I just give it a light tap?"

"Yes, that should do the trick. I'll try to start the engine."

The inventor returned with the mallet and the torch. There was the sound of wood on metal, and Catherine tried the engine. It burst into life. "Yeah, that did it! I'll drive it back to your house."

Emmet closed the DeLorean's bonnet and returned to his car. Catherine followed him down the street to the safety of his lab.


	8. More Unexplanatory Explanations

A/N: I'd been using hashes for scene changed but I don't think they've been coming out on the forum, so I'm using horizonal rules in this chapter. Better?

Chapter 8

6:05 PM  
Nov 5 1995  
Hill Valley California

"That's the cables all connected. How do you turn it on?"

"Should be a button... there. Okay Doc, this is it."

The video footage Marty had recorded started to play.

"_Never mind that now, never mind that now."_

"_All right, I'm ready."_

"_You're never ready."_

"Why that's me! Look at me, I'm an old man!" the inventor of 1955 exclaimed.

_"Good evening, I'm Dr Emmett Brown. I'm standing on the parking lot of Lone Pines Mall. It's Saturday morning, October 26th 1985, 1:18am and this is temporal experiment number one. C'mon, Einie."_

Thank God I've still got my hair. What on Earth is that thing I'm wearing?

"Well, that's a radiation suit" Catherine explained.

"Radiation suit, of course, 'cause of all of the fall out from the atomic wars. This is truly amazing, a portable television studio" Emmet remarked as he fast-forwarded the video.

"Wars? No, it's nothing like that. Hey, this is the bit."

_"No, no, no, no, this is electrical. But I need a nuclear reaction to generate the 1.21 gigawatts of electricity that I need."_

"What did I just say?"

Catherine rewound the tape a little way.

_"No, no, no, no, this is electrical. But I need a nuclear reaction to generate the 1.21 gigawatts of electricity that I need,"_ the video repeated.

"1.21 gigawatts? 1.21 gigawatts! Great Scott!"

"You can say that again," Catherine responded helpfully. Now do you see why you needed to wear...?"

But the scientist had walked over to the portraits on his wall. "How could I have been so careless? 1.21 gigawatts! Tom, how am I gonna generate that kind of power? It can't be done, it can't!" he shouted to Thomas Alva Edison. But Edison had no answer.

Catherine knew exactly how to do it. "Doc, look, all we need is a little plutonium!"

I'm sure that in 1985, plutonium is available at every corner drug store, but in 1955, it's a little hard to come by. Catherine, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you and your brother, wherever he is, are stuck here."

"Stuck?"

"Yes, stuck. Trapped. Unable to return.

"But we _can't_ be stuck. It isn't possible. We're thirty years in the past."

"I fail to see how that has any effect on the matter."

Catherine stopped short. Honestly, there was no reason why she was protesting, apart from the fact that being stranded thirty years in the past wasn't the sort of thing that was easy to swallow, on the best of days. And this wasn't the best of days, since she hadn't slept enough due to the change of time. "Isn't there some way to return?"

"Not that I know of. The deciding factor is the power requirement of 1.21 gigawatts. Without plutonium, there is no feasible way to supply that amount of power, short of a bolt of lightning."

"Lightning?"

"Lightning isn't of any practical use, since we have no idea of where it might strike. Add to that the requirement of travelling at 88 miles per hour while simultaneously harnessing the lightning (which is a dangerous thing to mess with on the best of occasions, let alone while travelling at that sort of speed), and you have an extremely impossible task."

"Impossible, or just difficult?"

"If you could go speeding around at 88 miles per hour with a lightning rod on the car for long enough, there is a slight chance of success, but you are more likely to hit something, run out of fuel, or run out of space long before. And that's supposing you can find a decent storm."

"A storm? Oh!" Catherine dug her hands into her pockets. "It should be in here somewhere..." She rummaged through various bits of junk. "How did I end up with this?" She pulled a wallet out of the tangled collection. "This is Marty's. I think I must have picked it up without thinking when we hid the time machine.

"I suppose it is not what you were looking for?" Emmet asked.

"No... here we are! I knew I still had one on me." She located a crumpled ball of paper and tried to smooth it out a little. "Read this."

"Goldie Wilson is Mayor in the future?" Emmet was perplexed.

"No, not that bit. About the clock."

Emmet read on with an excited gleam in his eyes. "This is it. This is the answer. It says here that a bolt of lightning is gonna strike the clock-tower precisely at 10.04pm next Saturday night. If we could somehow harness this bolt of lightning, channel it into the flux capacitor, it just might work. Next Saturday night, we're sending you back to the future!"

"And Marty."

"Of course. Now, since we know exactly when and where the lightning will strike..." Emmet's voice trailed off as he drifted into a state of deep thought. "I'll need to model this."

"Great. So, I have a week. A week in the fifties."

"Yes, a week _inside_ in the fifties."

"But I can't stay inside for a whole week."

"I'm afraid you must, for the sake of the future."

"That's not fair. Marty's who knows where, doing who knows what."

"That is beyond my control. When we locate him, he must stay inside also."

"Hmm. It won't be so bad, the two of us. Being alone's boring."

"Boring? We need to work on getting you home."

"You're the one who knows about all that. I really can't help."

"True, but there are plenty of things to do inside. Have you met Copernicus?"

"Who?"

"My dog."

"Oh, not really. I think I saw him earlier. I like dogs, but I was rather busy earlier."

"In that case, I'll introduce you. Copernicus!"

The dog instantly appeared in the doorway, wagging his tail at a furious rate.

"See, he likes you already. But it's getting late, particularly since you skipped over several hours of sleep last night, or rather you haven't had several hours sleep on October 26, 1985 yet. But you'll have those hours in a week, if I have anything to do with it. You can play with Copernicus in the morning."

"What about Marty?"

"There is nothing we can do for him at present. I'm sure he will show up. Oh, I should really find you a room. Step this way."

Catherine followed the younger version of her older friend to a guest room. She was dead tired. Her last though before falling into deep slumber was, "_I wonder where Marty is sleeping. I _do_ hope he's safe_."

End Flashback

* * *

2:35 PM  
Nov 16 1985  
Hill Valley California

Marty pulled himself free of Bess's embrace. "You, you, you're my girlfriend?"

Bess nodded, with a look of understanding on her pretty face. "Your sister told me you seemed to be suffering from some sort of memory loss, so it's understandable for you to not remember me."

"Uh, yes, I guess so. But there's nothing really wrong with me, I just remember differently to everyone else."

"Nothing wrong with you? You didn't get hit in the head again?" Marty shook his head quizzically, so she continued with the idea, "So you remember differently because of time travel?"

Mary was shocked at her knowledge of this subject for a moment, but then he remembered a part of Doc's account of the alternate reality in which Jennifer never existed. "So you know about that?"

"Yes. I've done it myself. I suppose you want to know what's going on."

"Maybe. When a person comes home from lunch to find that everyone thinks they have been gone for three weeks, they might not be terribly eager to find out what happened to them. Maybe it's better not to know."

"I don't think it's that bad. I mean, you got back, so you're fine."

"Yeah, but I don't know where I've been, and I'm not sure if I want to."

"Don't worry, it's nothing too terrible. Catherine told me about the first part, how you got lost. It happened something like this..."

* * *

"So you hung around bored all week?" Emmet asked Catherine.

"Partly. Copernicus and I became good friends, and after a few days you let me take him for walks. I managed to ask around the neighbourhood to see if anyone had seen Marty, but no one could help me. Naturally, you found some more suitable clothes for me."

"Of course."

"You managed to scare me thoroughly by blowing up a model car in a complete replica of Courthouse Square and the surrounding streets."

"I certainly remember the look on Marty's face when I did that demonstration for him."

Catherine giggled. "I do wish I'd seen that. Then Marty would have been already found."

"So, I assume you were forced to return to 1985 without Marty."

"Yes... and no. I tried for one last-ditch effort in finding him on Saturday night. I figured that since the Enchantment Under the Sea dance was such a big event among teens our age, either he might be there, or else someone attending might have seen him. But you wouldn't let me, especially after I told you that my parents were at the dance. I had to settle for searching around the rest of the town while everyone was busy at the dance."

"How ironic. As I remember, Marty was at the dance."

"Figures. Anyhow, I managed to get to the clock-tower just before ten. I would have been there sooner, but I stopped to write you a note."

"Note?"

"Yes, I had to warn you about the Libyans. I had tried to warn you, but you wouldn't let me."

"Ah, Marty did the same thing in my memory. Continue with your story."

"I was fairly distraught over not finding Marty, but you promised that after I got safely back to the future, we could come back to look for him. That calmed me partly, but you immediately found the note I had put in your coat pocket and tore it up."

"I did that to Marty too."

"Yes, well the future didn't look good to me then. I tried to tell you straight out, but a branch pulled down the cable and..."

"I'm sure it wasn't any different to what happened with Marty. I expect you drove off to the starting line with only a few minutes to spare, and decided to come back a few minutes early to warn me."

"Yes, that is exactly what happened. Did the engine die for Marty?"

"Yes, he told me it wouldn't start until he hit his head on the steering wheel."

"I just slapped it with my hand, really hard. Anyhow, I eventually started full speed ahead for the wire, trying to make up time. Somehow I managed to hit the wire at exactly the right moment. However, when I hit the steering wheel, it must have affected the time circuits. Just before the lightning struck, I saw the displays go blank and then they flickered and scrambled the values around."

"They did?" Emmet was a little shocked by that revelation. "I'm sure that never happened to Marty. "Where did you end up? When did you end up?"

Catherine put on a dramatic voice. "There was a blinding flash, the connecting hook hit the wire, the DeLorean was going 88 miles per hour, and everything around me vanished. When my vision cleared, I could barely see anything: it was dark. I hit the breaks, and stopped. From the feel of the car, it seemed like I was on a dirt road."

"Dirt? My guess is that you ended up in the more distant past."

"That's what I thought too. I tried to look at the time circuit display, but they weren't showing anything. It seemed like there was a loose connection somewhere. I turned the DeLorean around to see what was beside me using the headlights.

I was surprised to see the courthouse, partly build."

"Partly built? I get the idea you travelled to 1885," Emmet concluded.

"Yes, but I didn't know the exact year right then. I decided I'd better get out of there. If someone in that part of history saw the DeLorean, who knows what could result?"

"So what did you do?"

"I drove quietly out of town, looking for a place to stash the DeLorean. I tried to occupy my mind so I wouldn't think about being trapped in the distant past. Finally I found a small cave and parked the time machine inside. I turned the engine off and fell asleep in the seat."

* * *

"You mean I got lost somewhere in 1955?" Marty was a little bewildered.

"Apparently," Bess answered the worried Marty. "No one knows what happened to you."

"Man, this is bad. I guess we'll never find out. Since I have totally different memories, I'll never know what happened to me either."

"That is a little scary. And you say you just had a picnic lunch in the past?"

"Yeah, that's what I said. I have no idea how this could have been caused. I mean, Catherine was born at the same time as me. How could a trip back 5 years have caused a change back then?"

"Maybe it was caused by something you did in 1955 that was different because of Catherine's interference."

"Huh?"

"You did something different in 1955 than what you remember, because Catherine was there."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Doesn't it?"

"No. Why would Catherine have been born in the first place, if it was her existence that caused her to be born?"

"Oh. That doesn't make sense. Maybe you did something in 1980 that changed what you did in 1955 and that caused Catherine to be born. And one of those caused you to get stuck in 1955."

"Hmm. That makes a little more sense," Marty answered. "Hang on." He tried to think for a moment. "If I just caused myself to get stuck in 1955, I should still be stuck there."

"Yeah?"

"Which means I shouldn't be here."

"No?"

"Which means I'm going to be erased from existence unless I fix it soon." Marty said that in a surprisingly calm voice.

"Oh! If I were you, I'd panic."

Marty panicked. "I gotta get to Doc's place!"

Just then, a car pulled into the driveway.

"Who is it now?" Marty wondered tensely.

"Probably your dad."

"I think we'd better leave before he comes in here. if don't really want to come up with a story again. Let's get out of here."

"Um, I don't know how we can get out without being seen," Bess worried.

"Nah, it's easy. You just go through the house as if you're leaving normally. I'll head out the back and jump the fence. You drive around a street and pick me up on the other side."

Bess didn't hesitate for long. "Okay, let's do it!" She vanished out the bedroom door.

"_This is too weird. I wonder if this is a good idea_," he thought as he slipped out the window.

His decision was justified a moment later when a male voice called out, "Marty! Hey, where is he? Son?" The voice did not belong to George McFly.

Bess noticed that Marty looked a little pale when he joined her in the car. "Is something wrong?" she asked tenderly.

"Uh, depends on how you look at it. I figure it's just another weird change caused by time travel. Say, you said you travelled through time, right?"

"Yes, I did."

"When? Why?"

"I'll tell you when we get to Doc's place. I'll fill you in on the rest of Catherine's story first. You see, when she tried to get back to 1985, something messed up with the time circuits..."


	9. 80, 85, 88, and 90

Notes to reviewers:

Anakin McFly: I got it right in Past-Forward, but? I'll fix it when I get around to it.

Dubya Kerry: Um, maybe he didn't really have a chance to turn much. He was pretty close to the booth and had little time to react.

General note: I wish I could have more spacing, but takes it out.

And now, on with the chapter!

Chapter 9

"The next morning, I woke up, hoping it was all a dream. But there was no denying that it was unusual that I woke up sitting in a DeLorean with lots of weird wires and cables and lights. I actually cried for a minute, but I stopped myself after convincing myself it wouldn't do any good. I was awfully hungry, so I decided to leave the time machine in the came and look for somewhere to eat."

"Hmm. Was that wise? Your clothes..." Emmett began to protest.

"I was still wearing 50's clothes fortunately. I never had time to change when I gave up finding Marty and joined you in Courthouse Square."

"That's a good thing. Where did you find to eat?"

"I immediately found a farm, rather near the cave. An Irish family lived there, and they were really nice to me.

I had a bit of time to think about my situation while eating. I knew there was no way for me to use the time machine, and no technology to help me, and no way to predict lightning.

"I had the idea that in a hundred years, the plutonium would be available and the DeLorean would be usable. But I would be long dead after that time. Then I realised that if I somehow stored the DeLorean somewhere safe for a century, you could come back to get me."

"I had much the same idea, but Marty returned to rescue me after only seventy years. Also, I did not intend for him to actually come back for me, but just to go home."

"You mean Marty _was_ stuck in 1955?"

"Yes, but that was a second, more complicated trip. The two of us went to November twelfth for an entirely different reason. In the course of events, the DeLorean was struck by lightning while I was flying it..."

Catherine interrupted with her story. "So I decided to find a good place to stash it for a hundred years. I knew I would need some materials to help preserve it properly, so I determined to find myself some sort of paying job. I quickly discovered the Palace Saloon was in need of someone to keep the place clean and marginally tidy, and to help out with the cooking and drinks. I got the job straight away, in return for a small pay and board. I gradually saved what I needed for my plan, aided by tips."

"Not the most respectable job, but I agree that it was necessary," Emmett calculated. "But I forgot to ask, what day precisely did you travel to?"

"Funny enough, it was the evening of the third of July, so the next morning there was plenty of need of my help in the Saloon. It took nearly two months for me to save up, and I managed to find the perfect resting place for the time machine to sit in storage."

"There's only one suitable place that I know of: the abandoned silver mine."

"I assume that's where you put the DeLorean in your memories."

"Precisely."

"That done, I posted a letter to you in the future. That is, I arranged it to be delivered to your house on October 25th to warn you about the terrorists again, and to give you instructions on what to do after I left. I considered asking you to prevent the whole mess, but I realised that was rather pointless."

"Indeed," Clara agreed, not having said much throughout the tale.

"I 'posted' the letter, or parcel rather, on the first of September and..."

And a car pulled into the driveway.

"That's Bess's car!" Catherine observed. "I wonder what she's doing here."

"She has Marty with her," Emmett noticed, turning to look out the living room window.

"Doc! Doc!" Marty called as he burst through the door. "I think I'm going to be erased some time!"

"Really? That is possible, if you're supposed to be trapped in the 50's in this timeline."

"Yeah, Bess told me all about it. I figure Catherine's been filling you in?"

"Indeed she has, and I believe we should continue with the story to try to find exactly what went wrong."

"Where are you up to?" Marty asked his extra sister.

"I'd just send the package to be delivered to Doc in 1985," she answered.

"That's exactly where I was up to," added Bess with a small laugh. "We can tell the rest of it together."

"Good idea," agreed Catherine. "Now as I remember, it was September 2nd, a Wednesday, and business was fairly slow. I was hoping you, Doc that is, would turn up right away, but I didn't really know when to expect him...

* * *

10:42 AM  
September 2 1885  
Hill Valley, California

"You look like you're expecting something," Chester remarked to his young assistant.

"Oh, nothing in particular. We aren't getting many customers today."

"Don't you worry, they'll be here in droves in the evening, and doubly so at lunch time."

The door swung open and Buford Tannen walked in. "Gimme a drink," he ordered.

Chester didn't argue, although he hated to allow Buford to put alcohol into his system. He behaved badly enough without.

Catherine found something to keep herself busy in the back. She didn't like Buford at all and avoided him when possible. Her business caused her to miss noticing a girl walking into the saloon behind Buford. She did notice when the girl snuck into the kitchen. "What are you doing back here?"

"I can come back here if I like. I'm not touching anything."

Catherine noticed that the girl looked a lot like Bess Tannen, but with entirely different clothes and no makeup. "Are you by any change related to Buford?"

"Who's Buford?"

"You don't know him? I was sure you looked like a Tannen"

"Tannen? That's my family name, but I don't know any Buford."

"Then why did you walk in with him?"

"I did? Oh, that must be him. He kinda reminds me of my father, but a lot dirtier."

"Wait a second... Bess?"

"Hi Catherine. I wondered if you would recognise me."

Catherine laughed. "That costume sure works well. Doc brought you with him?"

"Yeah, he wanted a hand, so he brought me along. And I know perfectly well who Buford is."

"You found the DeLorean alright?"

"Yep, it was fine. That is one cool car!"

"Sure is. Any news on Marty?"

"We haven't looked for him, no, and we haven't seen any signs of his existence. That means either we already rescued him or he's..."

"Don't worry, we'll find him. Where's the Doc?"

"Er..."

"Well? Is something wrong?"

"He stayed with the DeLorean, to see if there was anything he could do to..."

"Tell me, what's wrong?"

"We crash landed, and damaged the engine somehow. We can't get it to run."

"Crash landed?"

"We clipped a tree and that busted the..."

"A tree? Bess, are you telling me the DeLorean was _flying_?"

"_Was_ is the right word for it. The hover circuits were shredded by the tree, with a few other things."

"Where did you get _hover_ circuits from? And... are you hurt? You practically fell out of the sky!"

"No, there's some sort of emergency landing system as a backup. We can't have cars dropping out of the skyway onto buildings can we?"

"What skyway?"

"The one in twenty-fifteen."

"You went to the year two thousand and fifteen?"

"We sure did. We wanted to do away with the problems of plutonium, and we didn't want to risk appearing in the wrong place in 1885. So we checked out the future. It has all kinds of cool technology. It didn't help prevent our crashing though."

"You mentioned the plutonium. What did you do about it?"

"Replaced the reactor with this thing called 'Mr. Fusion'. It takes plain garbage and does whatever reaction to generate enough power to run the flux capacitor thing. It's no different in practice to the plutonium chamber thing, but you fill it with garbage and stuff, not plutonium."

"That's one good thing. I guess we'd better see what he's concluded. I hope it's not damaged beyond repair, or we'll really be stuck for plans. I can't think of any other way to get home. It's not as if we can store the DeLorean for 130 years in another came."

"Don't worry, it won't come to that," Bess reassured her."

"What are you girls talking about back there?" Chester asked unexpectedly.

"Oh, this is a friend of mine, Bess. I need to leave if you don't mind."

"Leave?"

"Yes, I'll need some time off. I might even need to leave town sometime soon. I'll likely be able to come back in today, but I suggest you start looking for someone else to help out."

"If you say so Catherine. Just be in during lunchtime if you can."

"Will do. Let's go Bess."

Bess looked around and said softly, "I'd rather we avoided that Buford fellow." Catherine nodded, so she called to Chester, "Listen, you got a back door to this place?"

"Yeah, it's in the back."

"C'mon, Catherine let's go."

The girls left the building and found their way to the place where the time machine had landed. Emmett heard them approaching.

"Ah, you're back. Catherine, I see you're alright."

"Yes, I'm fine. Nothing a little sleep in my own bed won't cure."

Emmett laughed, remembering what he had said about her missing sleep. "I'm afraid you'll need to return a day late. Bess and I left as soon as we could, but the engine took a little work to start it after one hundred years."

"Did you try hitting the starter motor?"

"Yes, we did that," Emmett answered. "You had quite a clever plan, and carried it out splendidly."

"I see you avoided the terrorists. That was the one possible kink in my plan."

"Actually, I found your original note after a few days and decided to read it after all. I figured that anything you felt was so important to warn me about I'd better read."

"So what did you do?"

"Ah, I wore a bullet-proof vest. It wasn't exactly painless, but it sure did the trick."

Catherine had one more important question. "What happened to them?"

Bess jumped in and answered, "They did what any other criminals would have done in that situation: crashed into the photo-booth. I wish I'd seen it."

Catherine paused, not wanting to ask about the disposition of the DeLorean just yet. "Are you felling alright after being shot?"

"Couldn't be better. I had some work done on myself in the future - medical technology makes many advances in the future - and I feel thirty years younger."

Catherine laughed at that. "I wondered why you looked younger, but considering that you _were_ thirty years younger last time I saw you, which is in seventy years time, and seeing that you were thirty years in the future which is 130 years from now, it wouldn't be a big shock if I became seriously confused at to what anyone's proper age should be."

Bess stared at her blankly. "How's the time machine looking?"

Emmett shook his head. "There's no point in thinking about the hover-circuits. That would be fine, except the fuel line was cut by some sharp debris."

"You can't fix it?" both girls asked talking over the top of one another and laughing about it despite themselves.

"Oh, I can, but the fuel tank is empty."

Catherine was about to ask a dumb question, but Bess beat her. "And there aren't any gas stations around, correct?"

"Oh, I guess not," Catherine realised. "So we can't get up to 88? Or can we use that fusion thing somehow?" she asked, tapping the Mr. Fusion.

"No, that device is only connected to the flux capacitor. To use it to propel the car, I would need to wire up a large electric motor, which is not possible in the current time period. Of course, such an arrangement would drain power from the fusion reactor, possibly not leaving enough material to run the flux capacitor."

"What power source did the hover circuits run off?" Catherine wondered.

"They drew power from the alternator, which means they need gasoline also. They could easily be connected to the fusion generator, but the question is moot due to their damage.

"Could we run the engine off something else, other than gas?" Bess suggested.

"That is quite possible," Emmett agreed, "but we can't do anything else with the time machine sitting out here. Is there a good place I can put it?"

Catherine scratched her nose thoughtfully. "The blacksmith's shop has been empty since before I arrived."

"Blacksmith? Perfect." A twinkle came into the scientist's eye.

"I need to get back to my job, for the lunch rush," Catherine pointed out.

"They have lunch rushes in the nineteenth century?" Bess asked.

"You should see it. Actually, you should come and help out: we'll need the money."

Bess tried to nod and shake her head at the same time. "I'll come, but Doc already has plenty of money for this time zone."

"That's a relief," Catherine sighed. "I wondered how we'd afford to stay here. C'mon, let's get going."

The two girls arrived back at the saloon just in the nick of time.

"Catherine, you arrived in the nick of time," Chester declared.

"Me too," muttered Bess.

"Chester, this is my friend Bess Ta, er, Thomas. She'll be in town for a little while. Can she help out a little?"

"We'll need it, so she can, but not for as much pay as you get."

"Oh, I wouldn't expect that," Bess put in. "Where can we start?"

The girls were soon up to their eyebrows in work, trying to fill out orders fast enough to keep the customers happy. The pair became lost in a happy blur of activity. They were rudely interrupted by the unwanted arrival of Buford Tannen, who Bess knew to be her great-great-grandfather.

"Where's that good-for-nothing girl with the name that begins with a 'K'?" he roared.

One of the men behind him, a gang member, corrected him. "I think it's a 'C', Buford, not a 'K'"

"Whatever. There she is." He glared at Catherine.

"Um, hello?"

He stepped closer. "You owe me money, girl."

"H-how do ya figure?" Catherine stuttered.

"My horse threw me off yesterday, after I left this here saloon."

"We'll I don't see how that concerns me," Catherine answered bravely.

"Well, it does. It made me bust a perfectly good bottle of fine Kentucky Redeye you sold me."

"Well, that's just too bad. Seeing as you never paid me for the bottle, I guess that makes us even."

"Wrong! My horse threw a shoe and broke his leg."

"That's a pity. I like horses. I hope he recovers alright."

"I shot him."

"Well, that's your problem. If you hadn't been drinking whiskey..."

"I see it as your problem, since you sold me the whiskey. I figure you owe me 5 dollars for the whiskey, and 75 dollars for the horse."

Bess turned white and whispered, "That's eighty dollars."

Chester decided to step in. "Are you gunna order something, Tannen?"

Buford ignored him. "So where's my eighty, girl?"

"Leave her alone, Tannen," interrupted a low voice from behind. "That girl is under my protection."

"Well, if it aint an old man. What're you doin' in this here town, old timer?"

Emmett stopped a grin at the word 'timer' and answered, "I do not intend to be in town for long, but I will be doing some blacksmith work."

"Well if that don't beat all. I figure you might have turned up sooner and done something 'bout fixing that shoe what got throwed off my horse. And since you're responsible for this here girl, then you can pay my eighty dollars if you please."

"I don't, so get out of here, Tannen. It's your problem."

"Wrong. I've made it yours. So from now on, you better be looking behind you when you walk. 'Cause one day you gonna get a bullet in your back." He turned to his gang. "Let's go!"

The gang tramped out of the saloon, pushing by one another to be first and making a general racket.

"What did you do that for Doc?" Catherine asked. "He's trouble, and now you're his target."

"I'll explain later. I've arranged for the use of the blacksmith's shed, and I must go and secure some bedding and such materials. Do you wish to continue your stay at the hotel?" Emmett queried.

"That would be most comfortable," Catherine admitted.

"Would you mind if Bess shared your room?"

"Not at all."

Bess appeared to be aware of this arrangement, so she said nothing, but continued washing dishes.

"Splendid. I'll make all the necessary arrangements, and you can meet me at the blacksmith's shop, now mine, in an hour."

"See you then," Catherine farewelled.

* * *

An hour later, Catherine led Bess to the blacksmith's shop. The pair was greeted heartily by Doctor Brown.

"Ah, come in, come in. It's a comfort to have visitors in this day and age."

Bess giggled, thinking his comment quite funny. Catherine, however, thought it was no laughing matter. "What did Bess mean by whispering 'That's eighty dollars'? She seemed to mean something deeper than just confirming Buford's math."

"Well you see, while we were getting the DeLorean out of that mine you hid it in..." Bess began."

"Yes?"

"Einie was kinda acting strange around one of the tombstones, 'cos the old cemetery is right next to the opening."

"And?" Catherine prodded.

"It was yours," Bess ended bluntly.

"Mine? Really?" she questioned Emmett with pleading eyes.

"It seems so. The inscription read, 'Here lies Catherine, an unknown girl and hard worker. Shot by Buford Tannen over a matter of 80 dollars, September 7 1885."

"Oh boy." Catherine didn't know what to say.

"I took a photo," Bess said softly.

"Show me," Catherine murmured, in an even softer voice.

Bess pulled out the photo, passing it to her friend.

Catherine shook her head. "It looks blank. Where did the inscription go? All it says is, 'September 7 1885'. There's no name on it anywhere."

Emmett took the photograph and examined it closely. "I believe it means that Catherine will not be shot, so the photograph has changed to reflect the change in history. One of the odder effects of time travel, I believe. However, the date has remained, which can only mean someone still dies on September 7. That's this Monday. If someone is shot, and it isn't Catherine... it could likely be me. I've really put my foot in it now. Maybe I should have paid Buford off."

"Don't worry, I'm sure we can get out of here by Monday," Catherine comforted. "We just need to put our heads together."

"I have one idea already, but I need to work on a gauge and rent some horses. We'll have a try tomorrow."

* * *

"C'mon, go higher!"

"Faster!"

"Yah! Yah!"

Bess, Catherine, and Emmet sat on the stainless steel roof of the DeLorean, trying to get the horses to pull them faster.

"It's on twenty-two," Catherine reported.

"Yah! Yah!" Emmett urged.

"Maybe it would help if I got off," Bess suggested.

Emmet shook his head sadly. "It's no use girls. Even the fastest horse in the world can't run faster than 35 or 40 miles per hour. The three of us and the DeLorean don't help one bit."

Catherine sighed. Another day had been wasted.

"Plan B?" Bess asked.

The others nodded.

* * *

Emmett slowly poured the contents of the bottle into the fuel tank, not spilling a drop.

Bess looked on anxiously. "Catherine said it was the strongest stuff they had, so it had better work."

Catherine nodded in agreement.

The scientist finished pouring. "Try it, Bess."

Bess tried the engine. It almost started, and then stalled. Catherine looked worried at the strange noise coming from the back.

"Need more gas," the scientist suggested.

An explosion rocked the building, ripping part of the engine off.

"No, not that!"

"What, what was it?" Bess asked breathlessly.

"The fuel injection manifold. It will take a whole month to rebuild."

"But Doc, we gotta get home, and Buford might kill someone on Monday, three days away. We can't wait a whole month. And besides, I don't think it'll work even after fixing the manifold thing. It just won't run on anything but regular unleaded gasoline."

Bess agreed. "We need some other way to propel it."

"I know, I know, I know! I wish... wait, I've got it! We can roll it down a steep hill... no, we'd never find a smooth enough surface. Unless... of course... ice! We can wait until winter when the lake freezes over..."

"No Doc, we can't wait."

"No, I don't suppose we can. Wait. Let's just think this thing through logically. We know it can't run on its own power, and we know we can't pull it. But, if we can figure out a way to push it up to 88 miles per hour... huh?"

"With what shall we push it..." began Bess in a singsong voice.

But she was interrupted by a loud whistle. Emmett looked around, spotting a steam train that had just pulled into the station. "That's it!" He rushed out of the shop, his face blackened by the explosion. The girls, also rather untidy, followed close behind.

The engineer was happy to chat. "How fast she can go? Why, I've powered her up to 55 myself. I hear that fearless Frank Fargo got one of these up to near 70 out past Verde Junction."

"Is it possible to get it up to 90?" Bess asked.

The engineer laughed. "90? Tarnations, missy, why'd ya ever be in such a hurry?"

Emmet thought of a quick answer. "Well, it's just a little bet that the girls have, that's all. Theoretically speaking, could it be done?"

"Well, I suppose if you had a straight stretch of track with a long level grade, and you weren't hauling no cars behind you - and if you could get the fire hot enough, I mean hotter than the blazes of hell and tarnations - well yes, you might be able get her up that fast."

"When's the next train coming through here?"

"Monday morning at 8 o'clock."


	10. Plans and Distractions

Chapter 10

The time-lost scientist and girls stood searching the railroad map.

Emmett found a likely place. "Here," he pointed. "This spur runs off the main line three miles down to Clayton Ravine. There's a long stretch of track that will still exist in 1985. This is where we'll push the DeLorean with the locomotive. Funny, this map calls Clayton Ravine Shonash Ravine. Must be an old Indian name for it. It's perfect. Nice long run that goes clear across the bridge over the ravine, you know, over near that Hilldale housing development."

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Catherine, "but..."

"But?"

Bess finished the though. "According to this map... there is no bridge."

"Well, there's only one thing for it: we must investigate," Emmett said dramatically.

* * *

The trio stopped their horses and gazed at the ravine. The track ran to the lip of the ravine and stopped dead.

"Unless we wait around for two years we can scratch this idea," Catherine lamented.

"Catherine, you're not thinking fourth dimensionally," Emmett chided.

"No? I still don't see."

"As long as we get up to 88 miles per hour before we reach the edge of the ravine..." began Bess.

"...we'll instantaneously arrive at a point in time where the bridge is completed, safe and still in use. We'll have track under us, and coast safely across the ravine!

"Um, what about the... locomotive," Catherine said in a small voice.

Emmett gave a slightly wicked grin. "It'll be a spectacular wreck. Too bad no one will be around to see it."

Bess's eye's lit up. "We could always come back to see it some time.

"Ahhh! Help me!" called a voice nearby.

Everyone whipped around to see a buckboard pulled by horses, out of the control of the woman riding. They were headed towards the edge of the ravine.

"Great Scott!" Emmett exclaimed.

"Oh!" Bess voiced in like manner.

Catherine just stared dumbly.

Emmett quickly reacted. "Git!" he prodded his horse.

The girls followed close behind. Emmett managed to catch the buckboard and ride close beside. "Jump!" he commanded.

The woman jumped into the safety of his strong arms. The horses all pulled up before the edge of the ravine. The buckboard wasn't so lucky: it overturned, broke from the hitching, and tumbled into the ravine. Emmett slowed his own horse.

The woman sat with her hat squashed down over her face. "Oh, thank you, sir, you saved my..." She pulled her hat up and found herself looking into his eyes. "...life," she managed to finish after an awkward pause.

Emmett stared back at her for several moments, wide-eyed. "Emmett Brown, at your service, Miss..."

"Um... um... Clayton. Clara Clayton," she supplied with a stammer.

"Clara." He paused to reflect. "What a beautiful name."

Bess and Catherine gave each other knowing looks. Finally Catherine interrupted to say, "We'd better see what's left of her, um, belongings, at the bottom of the, er, ravine."

Emmett barely heard her, but he realised what was happening when the girls began to ride off towards the rocky trail that lead to the bottom of the ravine.

"That was a fairly successful rescue operation," Bess noted to Catherine. For emphasis, she pointed towards one of the buckboard horses, which was laden with Clara's belongings, a little the worse for wear. Clara rode the other horse beside Emmett, and the teens followed a little way behind.

The small company reached Clara's cabin - she had explained how she was to be the new schoolteacher - and the girls helped the scientist to unload the horse's burden onto the porch.

"May I help you inside with these?" Emmett offered.

"Oh no, that won't be necessary. You've done more than enough already," Clara answered.

"But it's really no trouble."

Bess interjected, saying, "Doc, she says it's fine, and we gotta get going."

Catherine nodded and said in a slightly more polite ton than her friend, "Ma'am, good luck with the school teaching and everything."

"Clara, I'll straighten everything out with Mr Statler from the buckboard rental - don't you worry about that," Emmett offered. "Since I happened to be there, I feel a little responsible."

"Oh, well, that would be very gentlemanly of you, Mr Brown ... Emmett. You know, I'm almost glad that snake spooked those horses. Otherwise, we might never have met. I suppose it was destiny. Well, thank you for everything."

"You're quite welcome."

"I will...see you again, won't I?"

Emmett gave an answer that was not exactly truthful. "Of course, you'll see lots of me, I'm sure, I have a shop in town. I'm a local scientist... uh... uh... blacksmith."

"Science? What sort of science? Astronomy? Chemistry?" Clara wondered.

"Actually I'm a student of all sciences."

"Hey Doc, we gotta get going," Bess urged.

"C'mon," Catherine agreed.

"Oh yes, well, excuse us Clara, we have to get... going."

The three began leaving, and Doc turns to wave back to Clara. "Toodle-oo."

She waved back as they left.

Catherine started making objections as soon as they were out of earshot. "What do ya mean, you're gonna be seeing lots of her, Doc?"

"Well, I might see her again, just in passing."

Bess laughed. "That isn't what it sounded like to me. Or looked like. Didn't you see the way she was looking at you Doc?"

"Well, she did have quite a scare, right?" Emmett tried to rationalise. "After all, Miss Clayton almost ended up at the bottom of Clayton Ravine... Clayton Ravine!"

Catherine gulped. "Uh Doc, d'you know Clayton Ravine was named after a teacher? They say she fell in there a hundred years ago."

"A hundred years ago? That's this year!"

Bess said a little morbidly, "Every kid in school knows that story because we all have teachers we'd like to see fall into the ravine."

"Great Scott!" Emmett stopped his horse and continued, "Then she was supposed to go over in that wagon...and now, I may have seriously altered history."

Bess tried the easy way out. "Look, Doc, what's the worst that could happen, huh? So they don't name the ravine after her. Let's just get the DeLorean ready and get out of here."

But Emmett ignored her and said to himself, "I wish I'd never invented that infernal time machine, which caused nothing but disaster."

He rode off slowly. The girls gave each other questioning looks and followed him.

* * *

September 5 1885  
Hill Valley California

The time-travelling trio left off working on the DeLorean's wheels and gathered around a table in the blacksmith shop the elder had acquired. This table held a newly build model railroad.

"Right, girls, lets go over the entire plan and layout again. I apologise for the crudity of the model."

Catherine grinned. "Yeah, I know, Doc, it's not to scale. It's OK, Doc."

Bess nodded. "I've heard about your previous modelling experience, not that it's happened yet..."

"All right. Tomorrow night, Sunday, we'll load the DeLorean on to the tracks here on the spur right by the old abandoned silver mine. The switch track is where the spur runs off the main line 3 miles into Clayton... no, Shonash, Ravine. The train leaves the station at 8:00 Monday morning. We'll stop it here, uncouple the cars from the tender, throw the switch-track, and hijack... no, borrow," here he smirked at his correction, "the locomotive and use it to push the time machine. According to my calculations we'll hit 88 miles per hour just before we hit the edge of the ravine, at which point we'll instantaneously arrive in 1985 and coast safely across the completed bridge."

Catherine saw a catch. "Just before we hit the edge? That sounds rather close."

Don't worry, I have it all worked out, just like the lightning.

"Just make sure the time circuits stay set right."

"Don't worry, I had that little fault corrected in the future."

Bess spotted an interesting sign near the model windmill. She interrupted, saying, "What does this mean? 'Point of no return'?"

Ah yes, that's our failsafe point. Up until that point we can stop the locomotive before it plunges over the ravine. But once we pass that windmill, it's the future or bust."

Catherine started to look worried again.

A few minutes later, Emmett was sorting out the electricity to power the model.

"Here you go, Bess. Connect that to the positive terminal." She did so. "All right, girls, you both all set?"

"Sure am," agreed Bess as Catherine nodded.

Emmett pushed the switch down to start the train moving. He gave a commentary in a sing-song voice.

"Train pulling out of the station! Coming up the switch track! Stop at switch track! Throw switch!" Bess threw the switch. Pull up to the DeLorean! Pushing the DeLorean up to 88 miles per hour!" The train reached a model representing the DeLorean, labelled 'time machine' Emmett gradually increased the speed.

Both the model DeLorean and the train fell off the table once they hit the 'ravine'. Catherine neatly caught the car, and the train lands onto a pillow placed underneath in preparation.

"It couldn't be simpler!" he stated emphatically.

He was interrupted by a loud rap on the door. "Hello? Emmett?"

Emmett recognised the voice. "It's Clara! Quick, cover the DeLorean."

Catherine helped Emmett cover the DeLorean, and Bess thoughtfully concealed the model 'time machine' in her pocket.

"Hello," Clara greeted.

"Why, hello. This is quite a surprise," the interrupted scientist answered.

"Well, I hope I'm not disturbing anything."

"Oh no, we were just doing a little model railroad."

Bess smothered a snicker. Clara stated the 'reason' for her visit. "Emmett, when my bags were thrown from the wagon, my telescope was damaged. And... since you expressed an interest in science, I thought you might be able to repair it for me." Then she added, "I would pay you, of course."

"Oh, no, no, no, I wouldn't think of charging you for this."

Catherine sighed and rolled her eyes and Bess. Bess shrugged back and absent-mindedly twisted her finger around a strand of her hair.

"Well, let's have a look at it," Emmett continued. He gently opened the case and took out the telescope, closing one eye and putting the telescope to the other.

Clara explained the trouble. "I think the lens may be out of alignment, because if you move it this way, the image turns fuzzy, see?" The turned the telescope to demonstrate, moving closer to do so. "But if you turn it... the other way..."

Emmett took the telescope from his face, lowering his hand. He turned directly towards Clara and they gazed at each other. "... everything becomes... clear," he finished.

By an unremarkable coincidence, both Catherine and Bess happened to cough loudly at that moment. Clara and Emmett looked away from each other sharply, Clara stepping back towards the door, and Emmett holding the telescope with the funniest look on his face. Neither thought to ask why both girls thought to cough at the very same moment: it did not even enter their minds.

Emmett found his tongue and reported, "I will repair it right away and have it for you tonight."

"Oh, tonight's the town festival. I wouldn't dream of having you work on my telescope during such an important event. You are panning on attending, aren't you?"

Catherine managed to beat Bess that time. "Well, actually ma'am..."

"Of course, the festival..." said Emmett, ignoring her.

"You see, we need to, um..." Bess tried to back Catherine up, but was lost for an explanation.

"Well, in that case, I'll see you this evening at the festival, Emmett." Clara turned to leave, but realised she should acknowledge the girls' presence, which she had barely noticed. "Good to see you Bess and Catherine."

"Er, yes Ma'am," Catherine answered nervously

"Yeah, I mean, the same to you," Bess stumbled over Catherine's words as they tried not to look like they were up to something.

Clara turned back to look at Emmett. "Thankyou for taking care of my telescope."

"You're quite welcome."

Clara exited and Doc stared at the empty room with the most ridiculous face either of the girls had seen on him so far. Catherine looked a little strained and Bess hopped from one foot to the other, sick of standing still. Bess searched for something to break the silence. "She certainly has a nice..."

"... telescope," Catherine finished.

"Yes, that's what I was going to say, isn't it? It's a nice telescope," Bess agreed. She looked awkward and shoved her hands in her pockets. Her expression changed as her hand met a piece of paper and she pulled out the tombstone photo. Her expression changed even more. "Uh, Doc, I hate to spoil the mood, but..."

"Is something wrong?" Emmett asked in a light voice.

"Well, the tombstone has _your_ name on it now."

"Great Scott! Let me see it." Bess handed it over, and he gave it a quick glance. "Don't worry; I half expected it, after facing Buford. It still has next Monday's date, so we'll be gone by then. It's a good think that we found a plan so quickly." Emmett seemed to brush off the threat quite easily.

"To tell the truth, I'd rather be home right now," Catherine stated.

"You mean, you'd rather be in 1985 rather than now. This is Hill Valley, remember," Bess corrected with a superior smile.

"Don't think you're smart just 'cos you can tell the time," her friend chided. "I just mean that if we were in our own time, weird things wouldn't be happening.

Fortunately, Emmett was already thinking about what to wear to the dance, and didn't think to ask what she meant by 'weird things'. Bess knew full well what she meant, however.


	11. Calamity Bess', and unknown variables

Chapter 11

"Well, here we are, at the town festival. I have a bad feeling about this," Catherine declared in a worried voice, keeping her voice low so the smitten scientist could not hear her. She needn't have worried, as he was paying little attention to the teens.

"Don't worry," Bess comforted. "Doc will make sure nothing happens to us."

"I was more worried about him."

"Hmm. That's why we're here," was Bess's conclusion.

They had no more time for discussion, since the Mayor, who was standing in front of the clock that would be built into the Courthouse, began to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen! As mayor of Hill Valley, it gives me great pleasure to dedicate this clock to the people of Hill County. May it stand for all time! Tell me when, gentlemen!"

The townspeople began to count down the seconds. "3...2...1...now!"

The Mayor started the clock, which clicked into immediate action, and bright fireworks were released into the evening sky.

"Let the festivities begin!" the Mayor declared in his husky voice.

The three time travellers watched from their vantage point a little way behind the main crowd. Emmett had an interesting thought. "Catherine, wouldn't you say it's fitting in some way for us to witness this?"

Bess agreed. "Yeah, I've heard about your adventure with the clock, Catherine, and how it's partly responsible for our being here. It's just too bad I ran out of film in my camera just before we came here, or I would take a picture of you with the clock. I should'a bought another roll."

"Well, we can't change that now, what with the time machine in its current state. I don't..."

She was interrupted by a blinding flash of light. The trio, after blinking several times, turned to see a photographer taking pictures of townsfolk beside the clock.

"Here's your answer," Emmett said with a twinkling eye and a broad gesture.

A few flashes later, the out-of-time townsfolk found themselves arranged around the clock. "Ready, gentlemen?"

"The only problem is we'll never be able to show it to anybody," Emmett commented to the girls a little regretfully.

"Smile, Doc," Bess admonished.

All smiled and the picture was taken, blinding them yet again. Catherine rubbed her eyes and shook her head vigorously so she could walk without tripping.

"I should have the photograph printed tonight, so pick it up when the party's over," the photographer announced. Emmett nodded and the trio moved towards the recently started music.

Bess had noticed that Catherine's smile looked somewhat strained. "What's wrong?" she asked compassionately.

Catherine sighed bitterly. "Marty should be here with us."

Bess nodded. "I miss him too. Don't worry, we can still find him when this mess is over."

"Yes, but it seems that time travel has brought us nothing but trouble."

"Not totally true. I got the coolest thing in the future."

"Really? What?" Excitement crept onto Catherine's gloomy face.

"A hoverboard."

"A what? Is that like a skateboard, but with that hover equipment like what got broken on the DeLorean?"

"I don't think it's quite the same. It seems to use some sort of magnetic energy, so it's like a skateboard that doesn't use wheels and doesn't need a sidewalk. It runs just as well over the road and on grass, but it isn't so hot over water, unless you have some sort of power other than your foot."

"How did you get it?"

"Er, you see, these bullies were chasing me and I borrowed it from a little girl. She said I could keep it, 'cos she took one of the bullies' boards, a powered one, after they crashed through the courthouse."

"Whoa, slow down. You were being chased by bullies and then crashed how?"

"I was dead in the water - the courthouse has a cool water feature in the square, near where we are standing now - and they came after me on their powered boards - well, one was and the others were towing - and I tried to duck out of the way at the last moment and fell straight into the water. They all flew past and launched up in the air and smashed right through the windows."

"Uh, windows?"

"Yeah, there were - or will be - these whopping big glitzy windows. You see, the building seems to be more of some sort of mall. And the clock still doesn't run. And they're still raising money to keep it that way. But prices are so terribly high: a Pepsi Perfect costs fifty dollars."

"Pepsi what?"

Bess shrugged. "Some new flavour. The clothes in the future are really bright and a bit on the gaudy side in my opinion. Some really odd styles too. I didn't really stick out too much, until I got soaked in the pond. Then people started giving me strange looks."

Catherine considered the data, as she started munching some food. "It still seems like you got the bad end of the deal. Who were these guys anyway?"

Bess still disagreed. "The hoverboard was worth the trouble." Then she answered, "Actually, the gang leader guy was a lot like my brother."

"Matt?"

"Yeah, and he had Matt's mean streak too, like my dad before your dad dealt with him. They called him 'Griff'. Probably my nephew."

"Scary thought."

"Even scarier were his weird bionic implants. You wouldn't want to mess with him."

"So how did you get on his bad side?"

"Dunno, he must have mistaken me for someone else. Must have been some family quarrel. Maybe I..."

Whatever she was going to say was drowned out by an overwhelming silence, that is to say, the music stopped playing and everyone stopped talking at once, Bess included.

They stared to see Emmett, Clara, and Buford with the other dancers. Emmett had just pulled free of Buford's underlings, Clara had just pulled away from Buford, and Buford himself was standing with an incredibly pained expression.

"Clara's here! And Buford! Perfect luck!" exclaimed Catherine in a highly disgusted tone. But Bess was more attentive: she heard the two enraged men yelling and reads their expressions. This was not good.

She reached for the nearest weapon - a Frisbee pie plate - and hurled it at the thug. He reached for his Derringer and fired at Emmett. The hard-flung plate hit him at that critical moment and the shot went wild.

Emmett was somewhat stunned, and his hat fell of his white mop of hair. Buford spun around to see who threw the offending dinnerware. He spotted Catherine and Bess.

"You! I know you're with this smith fella. Which one of ya threw it?"

Neither girl could think of anything to say in response.

"I know it's one of ya's, so tell me right now." He pointed the gun toward them for emphasis.

"Don't worry, it's only a single shot," Emmett pointed out to the frightened girls.

But Bess was already over her fright. "I thew the plate. There. You can leave now, or I'll... I'll call the... er, the marshal." She stumbled over the ending a little, but managed to remember what time period she was in.

"Who d'ya think yer are, missie?"

"I'm Bess... er... Calamity Bess. So don't mess with me or my friends or calamity will befall you and your descendents. Marshall!"

"Someone call me?" Marshall Strickland asked, holding up his rifle.

"Yeah, this criminal is trying to kill my friend, and pointed a gun at me too."

"All right now, break it up. What's all this about? You causing trouble here, Tannen?"

"No trouble, Marshall. Just a little personal matter between me and this blacksmith, and his friends what owe me money. This don't concern the law."

"Tonight everything concerns the law - now break it up. Any brawling, there's fifteen days in the county jail. In fact, since you've brought a gun into this festival, despite my efforts to the contrary, and since you appear to have attempted to kill an innocent man - who looks like a slacker nonetheless - I believe I have ample reason to lock you up right now. Everyone who saw it agree?"

Several of the festival nodded in Bess's support.

Marshall Strickland slapped cuffs on the outlaw to cart him away. He turned back and addressed the crown again. "Come on, this is a party! Come on, let's have some fun!"

Buford's gang members looked at each other, muttering, "Looks like Buford's going to jail," and such. They dispersed from the courthouse area and vanished on their horses faster than you could say 'time-space-continuum'.

"Well, all's well, that ends well," Bess quipped. "I think we're well rid of him. But what exactly happened?"

"Buford showed up and was about to shoot me. Clara tried to stall him by letting him dance with her, if you could really call what he was doing 'dancing'. She kicked him, and that was when the music stopped and everyone turned to watch. I thank you for your quick work with that Frisbee - I mean, Frisbee pie - Bess. If it hadn't been for that, I would be dead on Monday."

Clara didn't grasp the hidden meaning of his words, but she certainly agreed strongly. "Thank you for your gallantry, Bess."

"Aw, it was nothing really. Just a pie plate."

"No, it was a very well placed shot. Emmett, I'm afraid I don't really feel like dancing any more after that."

"That's quite understandable. Girls, I'm going to take Clara home. Don't stay out too late. I'll see you in the morning."

"You're going, and not coming back? But what about the festival?" Catherine protested.

"Clara doesn't feel like dancing, so what point is there in returning?"

"Um..." Catherine wasn't sure what to say. "Never mind. I'm going to find something else to eat." She hurried over to a table.

"What's her problem?" Emmett asked.

"I think she feels abandoned or something. Don't you stay out late either, Doc."

"Er yes, I mean no, I mean... well, we'd better be on our way." And with those confused parting words, he escorted Clara to her cabin.

Bess grabbed herself a drink, some apple cider several of the women and children were sharing (making her assume it was probably not alcoholic), and then danced on her own with the music for a number of songs. Catherine soon joined in, and soon the girls found themselves trying to outdo one another. After five minutes of hard dancing to the music that continually became faster, Bess wore herself out and had to concede to her friend. She noticed that they were receiving a number of strange looks from the townsfolk. "I guess they aren't quite ready for our style of dancing yet," she whispered to Catherine.

Catherine laughed. "I think we should get back to our hotel then." She dropped her voice to a hushed tone. "If we stay any longer, I won't be able to stop all those boys from trying to dance with me, and who knows what trouble that might cause to history? I'm surprised Doc let us come after the way he kept me cooped up in the fifties."

Bess made a thoughtful sound. "Doc has been acting a little unusual lately. I mean, he intends to 'borrow' an entire steam engine, strand all the passengers, and run it into the ravine. That isn't exactly something I would expect a responsible time traveller to do."

"No, but it is the only way to get home. All his ideas about ice won't really help get enough speed, and even if he managed to fix the fuel injection whatsit, I doubt he could get the engine to run well enough on contemporary alcohol. And if you knew Doc as well as me, you'd know that he doesn't always act in the most rational way. He usually comes out on top though."

"Well, he pulled off that stunt with the lightning, so I guess we can trust him with the train."

"I'm not so sure of that myself. I understand that it is the only practical way, but as for it actually working, there's too many unknown variables."

"C'mon, Catherine, you sound like a math teacher. Leave that up to Doc. He has everything worked out, I'm sure."

"What about Clara? He does realise we're leaving on Monday, right?"

"I sure hope so. At least the trouble with Buford is over."

"Well, lookie what we have here," said a rough male voice.

Bess gasped. He sounded exactly like her own brother, Matthew. "W-who are you? Where are you?"

A dark figure carrying a lantern appeared out of the darkness. "The name's Tannen, Thorn Tannen."

"Thorn? What kind of a name..."

"Never mind. You're the girl what threw that plate at my old man."

"Really?"

"I saw you."

"Oh. In that case, it was me. Wherever did you come from?"

"We were at the festival, staying out of the way. We've been following you so we can talk where there aren't too many people around."

"We?"

Three others stepped into the light. They all seemed to be in their mid to late teens. One looked skinny and wiry, one was short and stocky, and the third was a Native American with intense beady eyes and feathered tribal costume. They all looked vicious.

"Uh, hello. So, what did you want to talk about?" Bess asked nervously. She glanced at Catherine, as if to prompt her to do some of the talking.

Catherine shrugged. The bullies were ignoring her so far, so she would ignore them.

"You're lucky," Thorn began. "If that marshal hadn't been around to take care of my father, that old fellow would have been in big trouble, gun or not. He wouldn't have hurt you though. He doesn't hurt women."

"What about Clara?"

"The schoolteacher lady? That was different."

"Oh," Bess agreed sarcastically.

"Unfortunately for you, I do."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you got my father sent to jail and I'm making you pay for it."

"Pay? That's what he wanted too. He wanted eighty dollars that were never his and there's no way any of you are making us pay you a cent."

"Not that sort of pay. I mean a fight."

"What, we try to shoot each other? I've never used a gun."

"No, I mean with fists. I'm mad at you, so I'll try to knock you down. If you knock me down, I'll leave you alone."

"In the dark?"

"No, I'm not a scoundrel like my father."

"Even though you hurt women?"

"I don't, you're a girl."

"Same difference."

"That isn't my point. Tomorrow morning, in the street."

"I thought you wanted to avoid being seen or something."

"No, just during the night. I can get away easily during the day. It's too dangerous to ride fast at night, you might end up in the ravine. And anyhow, we're mainly staying out of sight because we took some of the fireworks, and Mr Sloane threatened to wallop us for it if he caught us. He'll have forgotten by tomorrow."

"But Thorn, we're cutting the axle of Mrs. Finch's wagon, cutting the flagpole rope, pinching sweets from the general store, catching frogs from the lake to scare girls with and letting off those fireworks tomorrow," protested the shorter guy.

"How 'bout Monday? We doing anything on Monday?"

The three consulted among themselves. "Monday's fine," the skinny fellow answered. "You can lick her on Monday."

"Great. Monday, I'll settle this quarrel. Right in front of the Palace Saloon. And if you're not there, I know where you're staying."

Bess wasn't quite sure what to say. This boy, evidently her great-grandfather Theodore Tannen, was picking a fight with her? This was certainly unexpected, to say the least. "Uh, what time Monday? High noon?"

Catherine poked her, whispering, "Uh, Bess, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Noon? I do my lickin' before breakfast. Seven o'clock!" Thorn answered haughtily.

"No Bess," Catherine urged.

A mischievous smile played across Bess's dainty face. "Eight o'clock. I do my licking _after_ breakfast. I don't fight well on an empty stomach, and I'm taking every advantage I get."

"Alright then, I'll see you Monday at eight o'clock blunt."

"It's sharp, Thorn, eight o'clock sharp," corrected an accented voice.

"Who asked you, Fox-Tail?" Thorn replied, trying to regain his dignity.

Bess remembered something important. "Oh, and it's our fight only. No help or interference from your friends here. Fair fight. And no guns, knives, clubs, swords, or whatever you might try to use."

"Whatever, just be there," Thorn spat out as he turned to leave. "Oh, and one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"I think you look really cute. We should dance some time."

"Forget it!"

The boys vanished into the night.

"Whatever did you do that for, Bess? That was totally idiotic."

"What was I supposed to do, tell him I won't come? How do you think he'd react to that?"

"Point taken. But you can't fight him. You saw the look in his eyes. He might think you're 'cute', but you landed his father in jail, and he wants revenge above all. You would end up either seriously injured or... or on that tombstone."

"You mean _under_ the tombstone," Bess said jauntily. "But who cares. We'll be on the train and headed for home at that time, so it doesn't really matter."

"Remember, the train might be late."

"And it might not. C'mon, stop being so pessimistic about these random variables of yours. Everything will turn out fine. And besides, I know some great self-defense moves. Thorn isn't about to be beating me."

"But Bess!" Catherine pleaded.

"What now?"

"He won't stop fighting you until he beats you."

"So?"

"So slowing him down won't help."

"True, the only way to stop him is to beat him myself."

"And since he wants revenge so much, that would be extremely hard to do without totally incapacitating him. And you can't do that."

"Because he's my great-grandfather, right?"

"Now you're thinking. You sure made a bad choice in great-grandfathers."

"And great-great-grandfathers. My own father wasn't so nice himself, at that age. But don't worry, eight o'clock Monday, I'll be nowhere near the saloon, whether the train is on time or not."

The girls reached the hotel, and Catherine finished the conversation saying, "Okay, but I still have a bad feeling about this."


	12. More unknown variables

Chapter 12

September 6, 1885

Catherine yawned and stretched as she climbed out of the nineteenth-century hotel bed. She felt a strange sense of anticipation, which she wondered about for a full minute before realising the cause. Only one more day, and she would be safely back home, provided everything worked as it should.

She was shaken out of her thoughts by an irregular muffled banging from the other side of the room. "Uh Bess, what are you trying to do?" she asked with a puzzled look.

Bess stopped bouncing around the room and explained. "I'm just practicing my defence moves - just in case."

"You can't fool me. You want to fight Thorn."

"Maybe. It would be an interesting challenge, fighting one of my ancestors."

"It's stupid, that's what it is. What's the point in thinking about it anyway? You promised you wouldn't go anywhere near him."

"He certainly never promised to leave me alone today. I might run into him."

"The whole thing is crazy. You're great-grandfather wants revenge on you for getting your great-great-grandfather in jail. Why would you want to fight him?"

"It would be interesting to get to know my ancestors, and you don't really know a person 'til you've fought them."

"Rubbish. You're just bored and homesick, that's what you are. If you keep up this irresponsible behaviour, you'll be 'joining your ancestors' for sure," Catherine predicted darkly.

"Hey, I'm the one who stopped Buford from shooting Doc. Who do you think you are, my mother?"

"No, I'm your friend, and I don't want to see you get hurt. Let's go find Doc."

"After breakfast. I search for love-struck eccentric genius inventors after breakfast."

"Naturally."

* * *

The two girls walked back out of the blacksmith shop. "He could have at least left a note," Bess complained."

"Hey, he'll show up soon enough. Then I can tell him how crazy you've been."

"Give me a break, agreeing was the only logical thing to do."

"Let's just quit arguing and enjoy our last day in town," Catherine recommended.

"Great idea. Hey, there's some girls I saw at the festival, heading this way," Bess observed with a dose of excitement flavouring her voice.

A group of three girls of varying ages walked up to the time travellers. "Hello, aren't you 'Calamity Bess'?" the youngest girl, about fourteen years old, asked gravely.

"Yeah, that's me," Bess replied. "Why?"

"I heard something about you and Thorn Tannen," the girl explained timidly, her red hair quivering slightly.

"She means the fight," a slightly older girl filled in. "My sister, Nancy, never explains anything properly. I'm Rosie. It's a pleasure to meet you. Are you really going to fight him?"

"Uh, it's nice to meet you too Rosie and Nancy. I really think I, well... that is to say..."

"I think you should," Nancy interrupted. "It's so dashingly unladylike. Mind you, if _I_ ever thought of such a thing, my mother would..."

Rosie interrupted further. "Really Nancy, you don't gave the slightest idea of what you're talking about. The point is, Thorn is a person who needs to be taught a lesson, and you have a chance to do so, Bess. I know you can do it, you look strong and brave enough."

"I... thanks. I guess you must be right. He _does_ need to be taught a lesson."

Catherine nearly interjected, aghast at her friend's statement, but the eldest of the three girls, a teen about the same age as the travellers sporting silky, long, dark brown hair (among other things), managed to get in first.

"You are all entirely wrong. Thorn is a great deal more than a mere troublemaker. He takes after his father too much. If you mess with him in the slightest, he will always return for revenge, no matter what you do to him. You can't teach a Tannen. If you get involved, you will merely make him worse. As for the fight, the very idea of a girl, or even a boy his own age or a small amount older, is totally out of the question. He would tear you to shreds and leave you for his 'friends' to finish off. He wouldn't play fair either, despite any conditions you might have placed on him. No, Tannens do not know the meaning of fair."

Bess struggled not to take those descriptions seriously. She knew she was better than that. Or was she? She would prove she was better than her relatives. But how? "Well, I'm sure there must be _some_ nice Tannens," she finally answered in a moderate voice.

"Bess," Catherine warned her.

"Oh, this is my good friend Catherine," Bess introduced, partly to change the subject.

"I'm Constance, and I say you should stay completely away from Thorn."

"That's what I promised Catherine. Se thinks the same way you do," Bess replied.

"Aww, that's terribly unexciting," Nancy argued, stamping her foot on the floor for emphasis.

"It's safe," Catherine said plainly. And remember we're leaving town tomorrow morning."

"You can't just run off and leave Thorn to cause whatever trouble he wants. You must fight him or everyone will remember you as the girl who didn't take the opportunity to teach Thorn a lesson. And I know you can do it, from the way you dealt with his father."

"That means nothing," Rosie disagreed. "If you fight him, you'll be remembered as someone who was beaten senseless for being stupid enough to fight him."

"Well in that case… I had better be going. See you around girls, it was a pleasure to talk with you," Bess said as she turned away. She added quietly, "At least I think it was."

"Hey, where are you going?" Catherine wondered loudly. She turned to follow her friend, and saw the reason for her abrupt departure. 'Doc' was a short distance away, sniffing a flower in his jacket.

Bess reached him. "Morning Doc, what are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing. Just out enjoying the morning air. It's really lovely here in the morning, don't you thing?"

Catherine though that was all very well, but not very useful. "Yeah, it's lovely Doc. Listen, we really need to load the DeLorean, and get ready to leave, okay?" She noticed something and interrupted herself. "Hey, look at that, the tombstone over there."

Emmett looked around, seeing an extremely familiar tombstone. "Who has that photograph? Let me see it again."

Bess handed over the photo and Doc walked over to the tombstone. "My name… it's vanished."

"Of course it has, I stopped Buford from killing you, with that plate, remember? Great, isn't it?"

"But only my name is erased. The tombstone and the date still remain. We know that this photograph represents what will happen if the events of today continue to run their course into tomorrow."

Bess gulped nervously.

"Do you have something to say Bess?" Emmett asked.

"Well, it's like this…" She explained the situation with Thorn very briefly.

"But you don't actually intend to do it?" he asked when she was done.

"Of course not, we're leaving at eight. I wouldn't have the opportunity, whether I wanted to or not."

"But do you want to?"

Bess was stumped. "I really don't know. I might as well be prepared, just in case."

"She's been practicing self-defence moves this morning," Catherine explained as the group started walking through town again.

"I might just happen to run into him before we leave, so…"

"So, it may be your name that's supposed to end up on that tombstone," Emmett concluded.

Bess shrugged. "It's my turn, both of you have had a go. But no matter what happens, I'm going back to the future tomorrow with you and Catherine, and in one piece."

"This has something to do with your family, right?

"My family?"

"Face it, many of your relatives are not the most pleasant people on earth. You don't want to be branded as being like them by just allow their activities to go on unchecked. You want to prove that you are a good, trustworthy person."

"What's wrong with that? It's a good motive."

"Yes, but you can't prove your innocence by fighting the guilty. That sort of behaviour won't get you anywhere. And besides, no one in this time period knows who you are, so it's pointless. The only people who would know about it is us."

Catherine thought about someone else. "Don't forget Marty."

"I'll try not to forget my best friend, don't worry. But Bess, you know we all accept you, don't you?"

"Of course I know that," Bess answered quickly.

"Then what is there to prove?" Emmett asked, not really asking the question, but merely stating it. "Unless you want to prove something to yourself."

Bess looked down.

Emmett nodded. "I guessed so. But you don't need to prove anything to yourself. If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything (although not necessarily on your own), and all a senseless fight can do is hurt you. Fighting in this situation will not do you any good."

"What about Thorn? It might do you some good."

"Do you really think so?"

"Well, I guess not. He might feel sorry for himself for a while, but that's about all."

"Well, there you have it."

"But I still _feel_ like fighting him. Even though I know it won't help, and I know how it would end up. But since we're leaving tomorrow, I'll try to just concentrate on that."

Catherine advised, "Don't let it bother you. You don't want to work yourself up over something inconsequential. Seeing as this is a century in our past, we shouldn't be too worried about it."

"That's good advice," Emmett agreed. "Just do what you gotta do, and I'll to what I gotta do." He walked off, leaving the girls to wonder what exactly he meant.

* * *

"Clink! Clink!" The hammer drove the metal spike into the wood, locking down the loose rail. The scientist-turned-blacksmith wiped his brow, and the pair of girls looked on through the evening gloom.

Emmett laid down the hammer. "There, that should get you safely home."

"You mean get _us_ safely home," Catherine corrected.

Emmett shook his head. "No, I've decided to stay here, stay now. I'm not going with you tomorrow."

"What? You don't belong here. How can you stay?" Bess protested.

"And we need you to handle getting the train to push the DeLorean. There's no way Catherine and I could do it without you Doc."

"Don't worry, I still intend to do my part, I'm just not coming with you."

"But... why?" both girls questioned, in unison.

"To tell the truth, I'm in love with Clara."

"C'mon Doc, you don't belong here. No one was really intended to live anywhere but their own time. I managed to manage for a while, but it isn't the sort of place I'd live in for the rest of my life. It isn't the twentieth century," Catherine argued.

"Correct, but I have had a fascination with the old west for my entire life, before I decided to devote my life to science. I'm certain I could exist here, now, quite happily."

"But what if you get shot tomorrow. This tombstone could still be yours," Bess said, waving the photograph around.

"That photograph doesn't mean anything, other that as a reminder to be mindful of how our present actions affect our future destiny. The picture has already changed several times, meaning the future is not set in stone, so to speak. No one should know too much about their own future, nor should they let a thing like this affect their decisions too greatly. I still have to follow my heart.

"But Doc, you said you devoted your life to science. Tell me, what can you do for science in this time period? Not a lot. So what does your mind tell you to do?" Catherine questioned pointedly

Emmett gave a heavy sigh. "You've got me there. You're both right, I'm wrong." He reached for a lever, gave it a steady jerk, and watched as the DeLorean gracefully rolled onto the track on its new set of appropriate wheels.

"Wow, that worked great," Bess said approvingly.

Catherine nodded. "Perfect."

"I've at least gotta tell her goodbye," Emmett said with a hint of sadness.

Bess shook her head. "C'mon, Doc, think about it for a moment- whatever are you gonna say to her, 'I gotta go back to the future?' I mean, there's no way she's not gonna understand, Doc. I've gone to the future and the past with you, and I don't understand it myself. I bet Catherine doesn't really understand it either."

"Nope, not really."

"See, Clara wouldn't have a clue what you were talking about. Doc. Listen. Maybe we could... I dunno, maybe we could just take Clara with us."

Catherine started to laugh at her friend's idea, but Emmett quieted her.

"Take her to the future? As you just pointed out, I'm a scientist, so I must be scientific about this. My purpose in inventing time travel was the discovery of more about humanity, its future and past. It was never meant for my own personal gain, so I must resist altering the continuum to suit myself."

"Uh Doc, what about that bullet-proof vest?" Bess asked with a smile.

Emmett shook his shaggy mane of hair. "That was a matter of life or death. This is not. No, I must proceed as planned, and as soon as we return to 1985 we'll destroy this infernal machine. Travelling through time has become much too painful." Emmett walked off, having said enough on that subject. The girls stared after him.

* * *

September 7, 1885

The next morning dawned, like any other Hill Valley morning in September. Catherine stretched and rubber her eyes, feeling a little sore after sleeping on the ground all night. She was startled by a burst of laughter.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

Bess grinned wickedly. "Oh nothing, you just rubbed dirt all over your face, that's all."

Catherine groaned. "Do we have some water?"

"Some, but that's for drinking. Maybe there's a stream nearby. Just ask the... Doc?"

"What's wrong?" Catherine asked with worry in her voice.

"He's gone!"

"Gone? As in, he's left?"

"What do you expect it to mean?" Bess retorted, a little frustrated. "He must have gone to say goodbye to Clara after all. Figures."

"His horse is gone, so you must be right. But he must have gone off last night: it's much too early to be visiting right now. So why isn't he back?"

"Must be in the shop. Maybe he stayed there rather than trying to sleep on the ground," Bess reasoned.

"We'd better go into town and see, in case he's slept in or something. It would never do to miss the train."

"And you'd better clean your face when you get half a chance."

"Okay, let's see how awake our horses are."

* * *

After a splendid morning gallop, the girls arrived at the empty blacksmith shop. They did not find a single indication that anyone had been there during the night.

"Er, guess again," Bess said lightly.

"The saloon? That's a likely place," Catherine quickly guessed.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Bess quipped as she ran back out into the street.

The girls burst into the saloon. Sure enough, the missing inventor was in sight, clutching a glass and talking in a rather detached manner.

"Doc! What are you doing?" Catherine demanded.

"I lost her, Catherine. There's nothing left for me here."

"Which is exactly why you need to come back with us," Bess answered logically.

"Where?"

"Back to the future!" both girls answered together.

Bess muttered to herself, "That's when, not where..."

Emmett slapped down his glass, and jumped to attention. "Right, let's get going."

"Yes, by all means, let's get out of here," Catherine agreed heartily.

"Out of now..." Bess muttered, but Catherine shushed her.

"Gentlemen, excuse me, but my friends and I have to catch a train."

The three men to whom he had been talking gave their replies.

"Here's to ya, blacksmith."

"And to the future!"

"Amen."

They raised their glasses to him.

"Amen," the scientist agreed to their toast. He raised his glass.

Catherine had a fleeting memory of Doc telling her how intolerant to alcohol he was, but before she had a chance to think or act any further, he took a sip of the whiskey and crashed onto the table.

Catherine shook him, and Bess tried calling his name, with no effect. Catherine shook her head in annoyance and frustration. "Chester, how many did he have?"

"Just one."

"Whoa, he sure can't hold his liquor. Give me a coffee... black."

"Joey, coffee!" Chester called to the back.

Bess glanced at the clock outside. "We've got fifteen minutes."

Catherine tried feeding Emmett the coffee, but to no avail. Very little coffee managed to get into his mouth, and it wouldn't have done any good if it had.

Chester looked on. "Girls, if you want to sober him up in a hurry, you'll need something a lot stronger than coffee."

"And you have something that will help?" Bess asked with great interest.

"We sure do," Chester answered with a smile. "Joey! Let's make a spot of wake-up juice."

The girls watched in wonder at the various ingredients the men mixed together. "You have done this before, right?" Catherine wondered.

"Sure we have, and in about ten minutes, he's gonna be as sober as a priest on Sunday."

Catherine checked the time. Ten minutes 'til eight. "Why do we have to cut these things so close?"

"Remember what I was saying about unknown variables?" Bess began.

"Don't start on that," her friend warned.

Fortunately, the conversation had to be stopped, since Chester arrived with the finished wake-up juice - and a funnel and a clothespin. He started explaining before the girls had a chance to question him.

"Here, stick this clothespin on his nose, and when he opens up his mouth, go ahead and pour it on down his throat. Oh, and stand back."

Catherine carefully did so. Nothing happened for a moment, but fortunately the concoction worked before Bess had time to comment.

Emmett leapt up into the air, his eyes popping open. "Wah! Hot! Hot!" he shrieked as he burst out of the room and into the nearest horse trough.

Bess reached him first and noticed that he had stopped moving. She helped the others lift him out of the water and got a good look at his face. "He's still out," she observed.

Chester and Joey began carrying him back inside. Chester explained, "Oh, that, that was just a reflex action. It's gonna take a few more minutes for the stuff to really clear up his head.

"Perfect," said Catherine in her sarcastic tone, as she surreptitiously washed her face in the trough.

"What did I say about..." Bess began again.

"Quit it! If you don't talk about things going wrong..."

"They will go wrong regardless."

"Must you be such a pessimist?"

"Hey, I'm not worrying. I'm just being realistic."

"Fine, just don't do it where I can hear."

"Why don't we just... go and help wake the Doc up?"

Catherine answered by doing just that. But he still failed to respond to face-slapping or name-calling.

"C'mon Doc, you gotta wake up now," Bess urged.

The unconscious inventor stirred slightly.

"Yes, that's more like it! Now wake up completely, and we can go home."

Catherine smiled. "It's good to see you're being positive."

"Hey, Bess!" called a voice from outside.

Bess rolled her eyes at the world in general. "You were saying?"

Catherine shook her head. "Never mind."

"Hey, I know you're in there," Thorn Tannen called. "It's eight o'clock."

"Sorry, I'm a little busy right now, so I'll have to forfeit."

"Four feet? It's six feet you're wanting, six feet under the ground."

"No, I mean you win without a fight. Congratulations."

"Hey, that's not fair!"

"Fair? You're the one who wins; how is that not fair?"

"I didn't come here to win, I came here to fight. Now quit wasting my time!"

Bess sighed. "Really, you're as stupid as a football bat?"

"A football bat? What kind of stupid thing is that?"

"Something as stupid as you are."

"Hey, who are you calling stupid, stupid?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Then hurry up and ask!"

"Who are you calling stupid, stupid?"

"Err... you!" Thorn finally figured.

Catherine turned away from Doc and whispered, "What on earth are you doing, Bess?"

"Stalling for time."

"Oh. Good. Keep it up for a moment longer, will you?"

"Sure thing," Bess answered with a grin. Then she raised her voice again. "So Thorn, what makes you think I'm stupid?"

"Because you keep wasting my time trying to get out of fighting."

"What's stupid about that?" Bess asked innocently.

"Look, I'm gonna count to ten, and if you aren't out here, I'm coming in."

Bess almost interrupted to ask him why he was bothering to stop and count, but fortunately she remembered 'never interrupt an enemy while he is making a mistake', a quote of Napoleon.

"One... two... three..."

"C'mon Doc, wake up," Catherine pleaded.

"... four... five..."

"Doc!"

"... six... seven..."

"Whoa!" Emmett finally roused himself.

"Are you okay Doc?" Catherine asked, concerned.

"I think so. Whoa, what a headache!" he answered, none too steadily.

"Eight..."

"Listen, we gotta get out of here!" Bess exclaimed. "Hey Chester, does this place have a..."

"You should remember full well the back door is in the back," Catherine interrupted. "Let's go!"

"Nine... ten!" Thorn ran to the saloon door and burst inside, finding the room empty. "Hey!"

"Y'know, it's odd that Thorn came alone," Catherine commented as the trio ran down the alleyway.

"I say it's suspicious," Bess said practically."

"Do you need to spoil everything?" Catherine complained.

"I merely..." She suddenly became aware of Thorn's three buddies standing at the alley entrance. "Split!" she yelled.

Catherine dodged to the tight, Bess to the left, and Emmett crashed straight into the tough trio. "Ooof!"

They grabbed him and dragged him back down the alleyway. The girls doubled back to try to stop them, but the boys reached the saloon door and ducked inside.

Bess grabbed the handle and charged into the door... literally.

"It's locked," Catherine observed as Bess rubbed her sore face.

Bess shot her friend a dirty look and started running back to the main entrance. She skidded to a stop, seeing Thorn standing square in the doorway.

"So, you've finally decided to come out? Trying to get out of our deal are you?"

"Uh..." Bess searched for some words.

Thorn gave a wicked grin. "You'd better fight me now, or your blacksmith friend, who caused a lot of my problems, won't be so healthy." He turned to his goons. "Won't he?"

Fox-Tail calmly fingered a dangerous-looking knife.

"Leave me, just save yourselves!" Emmett called.

"We're not leaving without you," Bess called back.

"Meaning?" Thorn asked intently.

"Meaning I'll fight you, in the street as we agreed."

"Fine by me," Thorn answered with gleaming eyes.


	13. End of Track, End of Flashback

Chapter 13

Bess carefully took up a position in the dusty street. Thorn stalked his way to an opposite position. "Ready Bess?"

"That's Calamity Bess to you," Bess answered curtly as she nodded the affirmative.

"You're the one getting the calamity, not me," Thorn sneered back, digging his toe into the red dirt.

Meanwhile, Catherine had bravely entered the saloon, and found herself staring at Thorn's friends as they kept hold of Emmett.

"Want something?" the stocky fellow asked.

Catherine gave a pointed nod. "You can let my friend go. Bess is fighting Thorn now, so there's no reason to hold him."

Shorty, who seemed to do most of the talking, gave the other two boys a questioning look. The stocky fellow shrugged and kicked an empty bottle across the floor, smashing it against the wall. "'sup to you Shorty," he answered briefly, with a deep, chesty voice.

"Some help you are, Clyde." Shorty tried kicking a bottle himself, but caught his boot on a nail, to Fox-Tail's extreme mirth. He turned back to Catherine. "What if we don't?"

"I'll tell the whole town what you did yesterday. Do sweets, axles, frogs, fireworks, and flag ropes mean anything to you?"

The boys looked at each other nervously, let go of the struggling scientist, and vanished out the back door. The few saloon patrons, who had moved themselves out of harm's way behind tables and such similar solid items, gradually moved back to their seats with relieved looks. The townsfolk appeared to be as frightened of Thorn's gang as they were of his father. Catherine and Emmett didn't stop to talk or even take much notice. They both spilled out the double-hinged front door... it time to see Thorn run at Bess with wildly flying fists.

Bess gracefully danced out of her ancestor's path, leaving him to punch empty air. Caught off balance, Thorn tumbled untidily into the red dust. He caught his breath and stood back up, brushing himself clean.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, feeling a sudden pain in his leg. "Yeouch!" Something bit his arm. "Aaaaaaah!" he wailed as he tore around madly, attempting to remove the army of angry ants from his suffering skin.

"That should keep him busy, do lets get out of here," Bess calmly suggested to her friends, who were looking on with surprise.

"Yes, yes of course," Emmett agreed as he looked around for his horse.

The girls ran down the street to retrieve their own horses, looking back to catch a glimpse of Thorn stumbling onto a blank tombstone before toppling into a manure cart. "My family always had a very intense hatred for manure," Bess remarked as she swung herself into the saddle. "I know my dad had some bad experiences with the stuff, but I guess he wasn't the first."

Catherine didn't answer. She was just glad no one was hurt and they were finally on their way home.

A loud whistle sounded as the three riders met. "That's the train. Do you think we can make it?" Catherine asked anxiously.

Emmett considered the question quickly. "We should be able to cut it off at Coyote Pass, if we're fast."

"Then by all means, let's be fast," Bess shouted as she kicked her horse into high gear and galloped away.

After a few minutes of hard riding through the scenic nineteenth century Californian countryside, Bess spotted the train winding out of the cutting below her. She urged her horse down a tricky slope, bringing herself to a point level with the track, after the end of the cutting. Ahead, the train vanished around a wide curve. Behind, her companions galloped on, just visible between the trees that flanked the rough trail.

Bess turned her faithful horse onto the rails and followed close behind the train, hoofs clattering on wooden sleepers. In a burst of speed, Emmett caught up to her.

Bess drew up to the back of the last carriage and swung herself out of the saddle. Emmett moved his horse close to the opposite corner and pulled himself onto the train. Bess turned back to wave goodbye to her faithful horse, and noticed Catherine lagging quite a way behind.

"I'll catch up when you stop," Catherine yelled, her voice barely reaching the train.

Bess gave her friend a thumbs up sign and started following the scientist-turned-hijacker over the top of the train. A few dangerous flying leaps later, the pair had clambered to the front of the train.

"C'mon, let's go! Masks on," Emmett shouted over the roar of the train. Bess pulled up her bandanna, making herself look quite comical. Emmett tried not to laugh as he started the final climb, over the tender.

The pair carefully navigated through the load of wood and dropped down into the cab. The elder of the two (by far) pulled out a gun. "Reach!"

The engineers jumped in fright, startled by the sudden appearance of these two malcontents. They raised their hands immediately.

"Is this a holdup?" one inquired.

Emmett paused, looking to Bess and thinking about the illegality of his current activity. "It's a science experiment," he finally conceded.

Bess grinned. "_Catherine would be a bit uncomfortable hearing that,_" she mused.

Her partner in crime continued speaking while she thought. "Stop the train before you hit the switch track up ahead," he instructed.

The senior engineer nodded nervously, and complied. The train halted at the right place and Bess sprang down to work the lever.

"Doc!" she shouted for his attention, waving to indicate that the points were set.

Emmett pointed his gun at the engineers again. "Uncouple the cars from the tender," he instructed firmly.

The coupling cooperatively clanked undone, separating the engine from its load. The new driver opened the regulator, letting the iron beast crawl towards the junction.

Bess grabbed on, setting her boot on the footplate and swinging herself up into the cab. Emmett gave the whistle a few good yanks, startling her slightly.

"I've wanted to do that my whole life!" he explained with a chuckle.

Bess gave a light-hearted laugh. It was good to see the scientist enjoying himself in the face of danger. She looked out of the cab and saw the DeLorean waiting up ahead. "This is our stop, Doc," she announced.

Emmett slowed the engine, bringing it to rest right behind the time-travelling sportscar-turned-railcar. "All change! Next stop, 1985," he declared in a station-master's voice.

Bess swung down to the ground and opened the gull-wing door. "Hey, what are these?"

"I'll explain everything when Catherine gets here, to avoid saying it twice."

"Smart idea. But whatever is taking her so long?"

"No idea. Ask her now."

"Now?" Bess turned to see Catherine appearing on her horse, which was walking.

"Sorry, I picked the wrong horse. This one is quite useless," she explained as she turned the worn beast loose. It immediately began feeding on the nearest patch of grass.

"Don't worry, you're here now. Take one of these and stack them beside the fire, but not too close."

"What are they?" Catherine asked as she picked up a colored log.

"My own version of Presto Logs. Compressed wood with anthracite dust chemically treated to make the fire burn hotter and longer. I came up with the idea after the engineer mentioned how hot the fire would need to be. I made use of the blacksmith facilities, testing them in the forge."

"Quick work," Bess said in appreciation.

"Thank you. These three will light the fire sequentially, make the fire burn hotter, kick up the boiler pressure and make the train go faster."

"A _lot_ faster," Catherine agreed hopefully.

"Indeed. Take a radio Bess. Catherine, Bess and I used these to keep in touch in 2015. You can monitor the state of the DeLorean and Bess can keep in touch with me, since she already knows how to use the radio."

"Sounds good Doc, but why do we need the radios?" Catherine asked.

"Ah, I'll have to start the train, and then climb out to the DeLorean."

Catherine looked uncomfortable at that revelation.

Emmett waved the girls out of the train. They entered the DeLorean and waited for the train to start. The whistle blew, signaling that the engine was about to move. The girls felt a light bump and the DeLorean started rolling along the rails.

Bess clipped the tiny silver radio device onto her collar. "You read me Doc?" she spoke.

"Loud and clear."

"He says loud and clear," Bess relayed to her companion.

"Bess, are the time circuits on?"

"Time circuits, Catherine," Bess prompted.

Catherine clicked them on, yielding a satisfying beep.

"Check, Doc," Bess affirmed.

"Input the destination time: October 27th, 1985, 11am," Emmett instructed.

"27th, 11 in the morning," Bess told Catherine, letting her fill in the blanks.

Catherine tapped in the number sequence. Bess nodded that it was correct. Catherine then checked the speed. "Tell Doc we're going at a steady 25."

"Hey Doc, we're cruising steadily at 25 miles," Catherine said into the tiny microphone.

"I'm throwing in the Presto Logs," he answered. A few seconds later he called again. "Girls, the new gauge on the dashboard will show us the boiler temperature."

"I hate to interrupt, but does this thing have a way to plug into the car stereo or something? Relaying everything to Catherine is wasting time," Bess complained.

"Ahh yes, I completely forgot about that. I had a plug installed… it should be just above the lighter. There should be a cord in the glove compartment."

"Great," Bess answered. She turned to Catherine. "There's a cord in the glove compartment and a gauge on the dash."

Catherine rummaged for the cord and passed it over. Bess plugged it in as Catherine lifted down the gauge.

"It's plugged in now."

"Great. As I was saying, the gauge shows the boiler temperature, and the colour coding indicates when each log will fire. Green, yellow, and red. Each detonation will be accompanied by a sudden burst of acceleration. Hopefully we'll get up to 88 miles per hour before the needle gets much past two thousand," said the scientists voice through the speaker system.

"Why, wha-what happens when it hits two thousand?" Catherine asked in a worried tone.

"Catherine wants to know what happens at two thousand," Bess relayed.

"The whole boiler explodes."

"Perfect!"

"Catherine says that's perfect," Bess relayed.

"Hey, you didn't have to tell him that!"

"Catherine says I didn't have to tell you that," Bess continued sneakily.

Catherine groaned. The sudden explosion of the green log caused the DeLorean to lurch a little, startling the girls.

"Remember all that stuff about unknown variables? We just found another one. So far, we gotta reach 88 before we hit the edge of the ravine, before the boiler explodes, and after Doc has time to get in the DeLorean," Bess said to her friend.

"Please don't remind me," Catherine cautioned. Hey, we're at 35."

"Doc, we just hit 35."

"Good to see you're back to the subject at hand. I'll be coming aboard now."

The girls waited for a minute as the scientist began the dangerous climb forward. Catherine kept an eye on the speed, and glanced at the temperature needle occasionally. It gradually and steadily rose until… "Hey, the needle's reached the yellow," Catherine warned.

"Better hold onto something Doc, the yellow log's blowing in a moment," Bess passed the warning on.

And even larger explosion rocked the DeLorean and the steam engine rather viciously, giving a proportional increase in speed. "40," Catherine notified.

"Right, we just passed 40, Doc. Nearly half way. We're opening the door now." Bess, who had her hands free, reached for the door handle and slowly let the door rise, making sure it wouldn't unexpectedly derail the time machine.

"We're at 45 now," Catherine announced.

"45 Doc, go for it," Bess urged. She stuck her head out the door, seeing the scientist standing on the front of the train, looking rather worried. "C'mon Doc, you can do it! You have to!" she encouraged.

"50."

"50 Doc, c'mon you gotta do it now or…"

Bess's broadcast was interrupted by the piercing sound of the whistle blowing, and saw Emmett climb back around to the side of the engine. She heard him yelling, but not through the radio, so she couldn't understand it. "What's up Doc, what's happening?" she demanded.

"It's Clara! She's on the train!" he yelled into radio, both serious and delighted.

"Clara?" Catherine questioned the world in general.

"How's your unknown variable count going?" Bess asked.

"Perfect," Catherine muttered. "This is getting worse every moment."

"She's in the cab, I'm gonna go back for her," Emmett explained.

Catherine looked out the window, and was horrified to see the windmill flash past and vanish behind them. She grabbed the radio off Bess's collar and yelled, "The windmill! Doc, the windmill! We're going past 50, you'll never make it!"

"Then we'll have to take her back with us! Keep calling out the speed! Wait, that isn't Bess is it?"

"I kinda borrowed the radio. Sorry."

"Don't worry, just give it back," the train-traversing time-traveller replied. He shouted something else, obviously directed back at Clara, which the girls could not hear well.

The passengers of the DeLorean waited nervously as the speed increased with little sign of the two adults reaching the front of the engine. Catherine began unconsciously twisting a strand of hair around her finger as she wondered what was going on, as she couldn't see the side of the train and Bess wasn't telling her what was transpiring. Bess didn't think to tell her friend what she was seeing, and even her face started to grow a worried look about it. "We're at 60 miles an hour Doc, so hurry her up a little!" she called back after Catherine's prompting.

Emmett must have bumped his radio for a moment at that point, since his next words were relayed to the DeLorean. "You're doing fine! Nice and steady! Come on! Just a little…" It clicked off again in mid-sentence.

"70!" Bess called.

Catherine started to look really worried and pointed at the gauge with wide eyes.

"Doc! The red log's about to bloooow!" Bess warned shrilly. She was only just in time: a massive, deafening explosion battered the vehicles mercilessly. The front of the DeLorean even rose up several inches and dropped down again, sending out a few sparks and frightening the girls even more than the explosion.

A weird humming noise from the back spooked Catherine even more. "What… is… that… noise?" she asked in a frightened voice.

"That?" Bess asked between worried glances out the door. "That's the hoverboard. It must have been knocked around a little. So was Clara: she nearly fell off, and she's hanging by her dress!"

"What?"

"Doc's having a hard time trying to reach her. I think her dress is ripping or something."

"Hey!"

"What?"

"You don't think that hoverboard thing might…" Catherine began.

"Of course! Why didn't I think of it!" She activated the radio. "Doc, I'm gonna pass you the hoverboard."

"Good thinking!" came the strained reply.

Bess grabbed the pink board from behind the seat and held it out the side of the time machine, lining it up. Catherine happened to glance out the front window at the same moment as Emmett took a look forward.

"Bess, watch out!" they both yelled.

Bess looked in a couple of wrong directions before Catherine yanked her back inside the DeLorean. Bess pulled the door almost closed as a reflex. The DeLorean splintered through the sign across the track, sending heavy chunks of wood flying in random directions.

"Thanks for saving my neck!" Bess said gratefully as she stuck her head back out. She lined up the hoverboard again. Catherine looked out the front again, seeing the beginnings of the partially build bridge in the distance. "Catch it!" warned Bess as she released the board.

She saw the inventor snag the board with his feet. "He's got it!" she exclaimed to Catherine. "He's reaching for Clara… she's slipping… he… yes! He's caught her! Look!"

Catherine leant over the keypad and other controls to see past Bess. They watched as Emmett and Clara hovered away to safety.

"Where'd he learn to skate like that?" Bess asked.

"Must have been Marty… Marty! When we get back… after we come back for Doc… Close the door!"

"Huh? Oh!" Bess yanked the door shut and then looked at the speedometer. It hit eighty-eight, and things began to happen in earnest. Lights lit up overhead and behind, blue flashes of light began to emanate from the stainless steel car body, and the heavy end of track sign grew closer.

Catherine didn't feel like looking at the temperature gauge, so she didn't. The amount of red smoke visible behind her said enough about the imminent meltdown of the locomotive. "Uh Bess, if for some reason you happen to survive and I don't, tell everyone I…"

"Here we go!" Bess interrupted loudly.

For a moment, Catherine was extremely uncertain where they would be going. Her vision was filled with the wooden sign, but it was suddenly replaced by a mass of blue-white light. When she opened her eyes and her ears stopped ringing, there was no sign of the sign, no sound of the engine, and the calming sight of girders and suspension cables.

The girls sat unmoving as the car coasted on, gradually slowing. Bess was relieved to see that the boom gates were down on the level crossing and all the cars were stopped. Catherine wasn't so happy. "Uh, Bess."

"What now?" Bess asked, a little irritated.

Catherine paused as the DeLorean stopped. "Um, about that level crossing gate…"

"Yeah?"

"Doesn't that mean…"

She was rudely interrupted by the moan of a loud diesel horn.

"Get out!"

With synchronous movements, the girls swung open their doors and leapt to safely. The modern locomotive ploughed through the time machine, sending shards of glass and aluminium and who knows what else spinning through the air.

Bess lay on the ground, separated from her friend, until the train had passed. Then she ran over the track to Catherine. "Are you alright?"

"No, I am not alright," the teen answered curtly. She pulled up her sleeve to show a nasty gash on her shoulder.

"What did you just say about not surviving?" Bess asked unwisely.

"That is NOT the **slightest** bit funny!"

End Flashback


	14. Marty's greatgreatgreat etc Grandfather

Chapter 14

"You actually said that?" Marty asked, incredulous.

Bess nodded sheepishly. "We Tannens aren't the most tactful people in Earth."

Marty laughed.

"As I was saying..."

"Hang the narrative!" Marty exclaimed unexpectedly. "It's definitely interesting and even funny at times, but it isn't helping us solve this mess one bit."

The other occupants of the room stared at Marty for a moment. Finally Emmett spoke up. "You are quite correct, Marty. We were too wrapped up in the tale to notice that it was not helping. We need to focus on the main problem."

"Which is my disappearance," Marty clarified. "Maybe the girls could tell us if they found out anything more about that."

Bess nodded. "As soon as the boom gate went up and the cars cleared, it went down again and Doc's time-train appeared, frightening us out of our skins, but relieving us as well. For a minute we were sure Doc and Marty were lost forever."

"So did you look for me again?" Marty asked impatiently.

"Doc already had, and he hadn't found anything new, and that it was really difficult and dangerous to search without disturbing history," Catherine said sadly.

"So you just gave up on me?"

"Doc said he was working on an invention to help us find you, but he hasn't finished it, and I don't know what it is," Catherine explained. "For the last few weeks, we've allowed the rumour that Marty was kidnapped by the Libyans go around, to buy us time."

Marty suddenly remembered something strange had happened a little earlier, but he couldn't quite remember what it was. He decided to leave that thought and try to get a handle on what had gone wrong instead. "So, uh, where did this whole problem start? I mean, what caused what?"

"Good question Marty," Bess encouraged.

"Maybe you're starting to think fourth-dimensionally," Emmett suggested.

"Hey, I've had plenty of experience. But I didn't really say anything useful yet,"

"It's a start. Now, let's think. We only travelled to 1980, which could not have caused Catherine's existence. Thus we must have changed something in Marty's behaviour, which caused him to affect his parents in a different way, which in turn caused them to have twins instead of only Marty. The appearance of Catherine would have then had further effects, but they must not have altered anything significantly. Additionally, the presence of Bess instead of Jennifer may have either arisen initially, or due to Catherine's existence."

"Hey, that's pretty heavy Doc, as Marty would say," Bess commented. "But it doesn't explain how it all started."

Marty started to look a little uncomfortable. "Uh, I did happen to run into myself back in 1980."

"You did? Why did you not mention this sooner?" Emmett demanded.

"Hey, I only just got here a while ago and I've been wrapped up in the story ever since."

"What exactly happened?"

"Well, I remembered that Needles was going to dare me to tow behind a car - on my skateboard - and I wouldn't have done it, so he's been teasing me ever since. So I encouraged myself to do it."

"Marty!"

"Okay Doc, I'll admit that I was being about as stupid as when I bought that almanac. But I didn't mean to run into myself, and I'd already started talking to me before I really thought about it. I figure that shows I'm _not_ really much good at thinking fourth-dimensionally."

"Quite true," the inventor agreed sternly. "Preventing Needles from calling you 'chicken' could change the course of our previous trips quite drastically. For instance, if you hadn't allowed Biff's taunts to bother you, I wouldn't have needed to have pulled that stunt airlifting you out of that tunnel, I wouldn't have been flying around in the thunderstorm, the DeLorean wouldn't have been hit by lightning, and I would never have been sent back to 1885."

Marty mused over these words. "I think I get that. But how did that change my first trip to 1955, and cause Catherine and Bess to end up here?"

The girls in question had been quite interested in what Marty and his friend were talking about, and would have liked to ask numerous questions. Fortunately, they managed to hold their tongues until now. Catherine spoke, but not to ask for any explanations on long past time trips.

"Would the day in 1980 you went to happen to be that windy day, April Fourth?"

"That's the one," Marty affirmed helpfully. "Why?"

"That was the day you had that big accident."

"What big accident was that?" the inventor asked, his interest snagged. "Remember we don't remember the new timeline."

"Well, Marty came off his skateboard, towing behind a car," Catherine began.

Marty groaned. "Man, I sure messed things up this time. How bad was it?"

"You were in a coma for a week, and couldn't remember much for another fortnight. Your memory eventually came back, but you never remembered that day, and the specialists warned us that further concussion could cause serious, long-term memory loss. That's why we were acting like we were when you first showed up."

"Bad!" Marty squeaked.

Bess had her own comments to add. "I saw the whole thing, and I felt so sorry, and so mad at Needles, who I'd kinda liked a little, that I never spoke to him again and tried to help you recover by being friendly. We've been friends ever since."

"Uh, interesting. Say, maybe the problems with my memory caused trouble when I hit my head when I pushed Dad out of the way of Grandpa's car," Marty suggested.

"Marty! You _are_ thinking fourth-dimensionally!"

"Really? Thanks, Doc. So did that help?"

"But Dad _did_ get hit by Grandpa's car! That's how he met Mom!" Catherine protested.

"What? That's what happened _before_ I ever travelled back in time. How could being whacked on the head in 1980 stop me from accidentally trying to save Dad in 1955? And why would Catherine be born, and why did I vanish?" Marty questioned in quick succession. "It doesn't make sense!"

"Hmm, no, not really, but it is definitely a starting point," the scientist agreed optimistically.

Marty tried to find a useful question. "Catherine, did Mom or Dad ever mention the name Calvin Klein?"

"Of course! That's Dad's name, idiot!" Catherine said in a corrective tone.

"S-say that again?" Marty stuttered in a disbelieving voice.

"Calvin Klein is our father, I'm Catherine Klein, and you're Marty Klein," she explained.

Marty's eyes widened and his face paled, "This is heavy," he whispered, before slumping his head to his knees.

"Did I sad something wrong?" Catherine asked, innocent but worried.

"No, you said nothing wrong at all. In fact, you may well have explained the whole situation," Emmett answered. "Clara, do you... oh, where did Clara go?"

The girls looked around the room to find that Clara had definitely left the room.

"She must be checking on the boys," her husband reasoned. "Never mind."

"How did Catherine explain everything?" Bess wondered.

"As I remember Marty's first trip, he prevented his father from being hit by his grandfather's car, but was hit himself, knocking him unconscious. He, and my past self, then had to spent the week trying to redirect his mother's affections onto his father, rather than himself. The catch is, his mother took to calling him Calvin Klein. If that bump to his head really did erase his memory, it's no wonder we couldn't find him. In fact, from what you told me, I wouldn't be surprised if he had been unconscious for several days."

Catherine looked thoughtful. "Are you saying that Marty is my - and his - father?"

"Precisely."

"Oh boy..." Catherine mumbled softly.

Bess had an objection. "But... wouldn't he have had identification saying who he really was?"

Catherine swallowed uncomfortably. "I had his wallet with me, remember?"

"Ah yes, you did say that. I believe we know enough about the situation to attempt a repair. Simply preventing young Marty from giving in to Needles and hence from attempting skateboarding so dangerously should restore the continuum."

"Does that mean I won't exist, and Bess..." Catherine asked uncomfortably.

"I am afraid so, but if we fail to fix the problem, this Marty," he indicated the motionless teen, "will be erased from existence."

"He will?" Catherine asked.

Bess laughed. "He already figured that out; that's why we're here. I had to help him escape, though."

"That's it!" Marty exclaimed, his head popping up, but not looking any less unhappy. "I knew something strange had happened, but I couldn't remember after all the storytelling. When I left, I heard my dad calling for me, but his voice seemed all wrong." He groaned. "That was _my_ voice. I've had some strange adventures with you, Doc, but this... beats all."

"I need to tell Clara we're going, and then we can leave."

"We who?" Bess asked.

"Marty and I. No one else is needed, and less time travellers mean less problems. Besides, Jules is hurt."

"And I haven't been feeling so well lately," Clara added, appearing in the doorway. "I was hoping the picnic would help, but the confusion hasn't helped anything, so I would prefer to give further trips a miss today. Did you discover the problem, or are you going back to find that out?"

"We have it all sorted out, dear. I'll explain it later. Girls, you should really be going, since you don't really belong here."

"Hey Doc, what about my truck? We left it at my house, so how do I get home?"

Emmett considered the question. "It should return here when we restore history," he finally decided.

"But why was my truck here when we returned from 1980?" Marty argued.

"We kept it hidden ever since he went missing, since he took it to the mall. We stashed it in your new garage after you moved in," Catherine explained.

"A happy coincidence. We'll we had better say our goodbyes and be off. It was certainly a pleasure to meed you, Catherine and Bess, despite the, er, circumstances. Is that the telephone I hear?"

It was indeed, so Emmett ran off to answer it, leaving the three teens to look at on another uncertainly.

Finally Marty spoke up. "Well, eh, I guess what I mean is..." He sighed and began again. "Catherine, it's been nice knowing you and I wish I had a sister like you. But I don't think Doc would allow a change like that. I'm just... sorry."

"Hey, it isn't your fault. Don't you worry about it. I won't: I can't worry about it, since I won't be around."

"Doesn't it scare you that you... won't exist any more?"

Catherine hesitated. "I'd rather not think about that too much. So I'll just say goodbye, Marty... Dad."

Marty rolled his eyes. "I'd rather not think about that either: that'll probably drive me crazy. Goodbye Bess. Thanks for helping me out; you've been a good friend. I'll remember that, even though you won't."

"Hey, we thought you were the one with memory problems," Bess laughed. She was about to give Marty another hug, when Emmett stuck his head around the corner.

"Marty, that was you on the phone."

Marty coughed.

"He asked if you three were here, and I said you weren't. So we'd better leave to make it true."

Everyone laughed at the inventor's sneakiness, and Marty started to head out the door.

Catherine suddenly called, "Doc, I've got something for you, to help you know when the problem is fixed." She ran up to him, pulled open her wallet, and pressed a photograph into his large hand.

"What is it, Doc? A picture of me and my, uh... siblings?" Marty asked, stumbling a little when he realised that all three of his siblings were also his kids, as well as aunts and an uncle.

"No, it's a wedding photo of..."

"Then don't show me, I don't wanna see," he said hurriedly. Then he changed the subject, saying innocently, "Catherine, that's a nice wallet you have."

"Don't even start!" she shot back.

"Hey, what did I say?"

Bess giggled. "Never mind. You'd better make like a hoverboard and get out of here."

"Huh?" Marty shrugged and followed the senior time traveller out to the barn.

"Marty, you close the door after I'm out," Emmett called from the already-hovering train.

"Check, Doc," Marty answered, fairly cheerfully considering the circumstances. He shoved the doors closed, and swung up into the cab.

"Right, we don't need to go back as early, since we don't need to have lunch again. Also, we should avoid flying near our picnic area, and it would be favourable to reduce the walking distance."

"Sound's good, Doc, but how do we fix the problem without stopping ourselves from knowing about it?"

"Whoa there, Future Boy, you're starting to sound like you know what you're talking about. I don't know for certain if it is necessary, but just to be safe, we'll drop a note off, in the time between leaving and returning of out first trip today, to tell us to fix the problem and write the note."

"Uh, I think I understand: we'll tell our past selves to do what we're about to do to make sure we do it, right?"

"Precisely. Prepare for temporal displacement: we're at our departure point and are moving at 85 miles per hour."

"Holding tight, Doc," Marty answered, remembering that transition while flying in the train was a good deal rougher than transition while driving the DeLorean, ignoring any surprises on re-entry. "This had better work," he added.

12:45 pmApril 4 1980  
Hill Valley, California

After the bright and noisy effects of traversing the fourth dimension had waned, Marty asked, "So Doc, how should I go about fixing this?"

"There are two possibilities I see: one is to meet your younger self before he enters the store, and delay him long enough that he and your... earlier self do not meet, or even see one another. Any interaction between you and your earlier self would be disastrous. Also, your younger self must not see both his older selves together, or in different places within too short a space of time."

"And the other way?"

"Talk yourself out of towing after talking yourself into it. This isn't such a good idea, as your younger self may be confused by your change of mind, and it requires greater interaction with your younger self. You would need to take great care to avoid making the problem worse. If you want to try the first way, you better get going right away. If you don't make it, try the second method, and if you mess that up, well go back with enough time to try the first way."

"Got it." Marty snapped up a radio from the floor and jumped out onto the grassy ground. "You read me Doc?" he asked in a rush after vanishing into the trees.

"I hear you, Marty."

"Great, I've just hit the street. Y'know, it would have been smart to change clothes first."

"Too late to think of that now," Emmett transmitted back.

"I'm nearly there, so I'll stick this baby in my pocket for a while."

"Roger that."

Marty stuffed the device into his pocket, averting his eyes from the path ahead.

"Oof!" He suddenly found himself sprawled on the floor with a man, a woman, and a cloud of papers spread around him.

"Er, sorry... I gotta run!" He kicked up his heels and made haste towards the music store.

He ran up to the front of the door, just in time to see himself, younger by five years, step inside. "Doc, are you there? I got here just a few seconds too late. Switching to plan B," he said into the radio.

"Understood," came back the reply.

Marty paced anxiously in front of the door, hearing snatches of conversation. He cringed as he heard Mr Phillips say, "Say, would you be related to the Kleins?"

He suddenly realised it was a bad idea to walk around so close to the entrance. His earlier self would be coming out of the store soon, before his significantly younger self would appear. He scooted over to a bench and picked up a paper to read, upside down. He realised his error after receiving a disapproving glance from a policeman on patrol.

"Oops, the outer cover is backwards," he covered, flipping the pages around. The cop gave a careless shrug and walked on.

Marty sighed relief, and then ducked behind the paper as the door opened, jingling the bell. He stayed as still as an ice statue at the north pole until he heard the footsteps move a safe distance away. Then he poked his head up and watched himself walk away

"I've heard of 'watching your back', but this is crazy," he muttered as he waited for the other him. Finally the door jingled open again to let the kid leave. "Here I go again," he said under his breath as he stood.

"Hey, you're still here," the twelve-year-old proclaimed upon spotting him.

"Yeah, I need to talk to you again."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Ye... no, listen. Forget what I said about skateboarding. You're just a kid and shouldn't be doing something that dangerous. I'd feel terrible if anything happened to you because of what I said earlier, okay?"

Young Marty shrugged. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. Who are you, anyway? What do you care about whether I skateboard or not? What makes you think Doug will even ask me?"

"Er... you'll understand when you're older."

"Oh yeah? That's what everyone tells me. Now tell me who you are or I'll leave."

"_I never realised I was such a pain_," Marty mused. "Me? I'm Ma... Ca... Clin... er..." he struggled to find a suitable name.

"In that case, don't tell me anything, I know you're lying." And with that, the pre-teen ran off.

"Oh boy, this is not good," Marty declared. He fished out his radio. "Doc, Doc, you hear me?" He waited for an answer. "Hey Doc! Marty to Doc!" He shook his head in frustration, and ran after himself.

Spotting a cluster of youths near and on a bench, he skirted around them and then edged closer to listen. Among them, he quickly recognised himself, Trevor from the Pinheads, and Bess. There was no sign of Needles yet. Oddly enough, Trevor was the only one with a skateboard.

"Man, we sure looked young," Marty said aloud, but quietly. "Amazing how things change over the years. Hey, who's that?"

A short, skinny, redheaded boy skateboarded up to the group. "Hi Marty, here's your skateboard back," the boy shouted with a wide grin.

"Thanks, Neil," the young Marty answered.

The observing Marty suddenly remembered. Neil had been one of his best friends when he was younger, but he had moved east only a few months in the future. He hadn't thought about Neil for a couple of years, and certainly did not remember lending him his skateboard.

"Say, does anyone know if Doug'll be here?" young Marty asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Sure, why do you ask?" young Bess replied.

"Oh, no reason. Hey, here he is now." He pointed toward an approaching cyclist.

Doug squealed to a stop, jumping down to the pavement with a flourish, as if to announce his arrival.

"Hi Doug, nice bike," said Bess with an interested tone. "Is it new?"

"Yeah, it's the one I've been saving up for. Cool, huh?"

"It looks great," said Neil approvingly.

"Hey, skateboards are better than bikes," argued young Marty, giving his older self chills as he remembered saying that very thing.

"Nah, you can go so much faster on a bike, bikes have pedals. It's much harder to push yourself along on a skateboard," Needles argued.

"So? With a bike, you can't tow behind cars," Marty retorted with a lot more intent than his older self remembered.

"Marty's right, I've seen some big kids do that," Trevor agreed. He noticed the force of Marty's voice. "You wouldn't be thinking of trying something like that, would you?"

"Sure I would," Marty shot back.

The observing Marty cleared his throat, and shook his head.

His younger self ignored him. "I would, and no one's gonna stop me. He dropped hid board over the curb, waited a second for a slow-moving car to reach him, pushed forward, and grabbed on.

The other Marty gasped. He couldn't stand and watch this happen. Before he knew it, he had grabbed Trevor's board and manoeuvred himself behind the next car. "Thanks, Trevor. I'll give it back in a minute," he called back as the car sped up, dragging him away.

"Who is that?" Trevor asked, staring after the familiar stranger.

"I dunno, but I'm following him," Needles answered, swinging onto his bike in hot pursuit.


	15. Marty's Two Doubles

Chapter 15

"_He's getting away!_" Marty's mid screamed as he saw the car towing his younger self start speeding up faster than the one he was behind. He looked over his shoulder, and pushed himself forward at the right time to grab onto a faster moving car as it drove past.

A sudden thought struck him: he had no idea how much time he had before the accident. The only plan he could formulate was to get as close as possible to his younger self, and either make him stop or attempt to prevent any accident as it occurred. "_A hoverboard or a flying DeLorean would come in handy on a day like today_," he mused as he pulled himself around to the side of the car.

He crouched low, keeping out of view of the driver. Carefully, he pulled himself around to the front right corner of the car. His younger self continued to grip onto the back of the car he had first grabbed, which was now the car directly in front, thanks to the single intervening car turning down a side street. Marty looked at the street ahead, seeing a fairly tight turn to the left, and a large bus parked on the right, beside a small man-made lake which featured as a popular picnic place in town. He gripped on tight to avoid being flung into the bus.

Unfortunately, but not entirely unexpectedly, the younger Marty failed to grip tightly enough and suddenly found himself detached from the car he had made use off. He managed to keep his balance, but was going much to fast to stop or even turn from his trajectory towards the side of the bus. His older self realised what was about to happen and sprang into action – literally. He pushed with all his might, sending himself parallel to the bus and hopefully into the path of his younger self.

There was a scraping sound as the two boards hit and realigned themselves. Both Martys were thrown outwards and grabbed hold of one another to avoid falling. The edge of the bus loomed closer for a second, and then vanished as the pair passed the front corner with inches to spare. However, the road was still curving and the skateboards continued in a straight line.

"Jump!" older Marty yelled as they approached the curb. Both boys flipped their boards into the air with synchronized motions, and landed on the grassy slope beside the lake. "Look out!" the teen warned, sending a boy scrambling out of their way with his fishing rod. The boards hit the water and slowed, sending their riders sprawling forward into the shallow, cold water with a giant splash.

Shivering in the strong wind, the pair grabbed their boards and waded to the shore. The younger Marty looked at the stranger who had saved him. "Thanks," he said quietly.

"No problem," Marty answered casually. "We gotta get dry now."

"Hey!" exclaimed the younger boy. "There's my parents' car!" He ran to the side of the road and waved his arms at them.

The older Marty suddenly remembered being picked up by his parents shortly after refusing to take Needles' dare. "_I guess in the version of history I just prevented, they found me after I hit the bus,_" he considered.

The car pulled into a space on the other side of the road and its occupants crossed over. "Marty, what happened to you? You're all wet!" his mother exclaimed.

"I fell in the lake on my skateboard. I nearly hit that bus, but this weird guy saved me," the boy explained.

"Marty, that's no way to talk about people," his mother chided.

"We'd better get them out of this wind right away," her husband urged.

Marty shuddered. This guy was _him_… and his father… and his son. This was heavy, to say the least.

"Just as soon as Marty apologises," his mother (and innumerable other relations) answered.

"Uh, sorry for calling you weird, whoever you are," Marty said quickly.

"Now get in the car, both of you. Well take you home and get you dry. Do I know you from somewhere?" the eldest Marty asked.

"Know me? I don't know, I don't live here," Marty answered, avoiding looking in his eyes. Internally, he was troubled at seeing his older self with his mother, especially after he though he had prevented the start of the problem. Maybe Doc had been wrong after all. Maybe he was going to hit his head some other time. Maybe he was going to be erased soon. Maybe…

A voice, his own, snapped him out of his thoughts. "Never mind, you just look extremely familiar, like someone I knew when I was a kid," the man who didn't know he was Marty answered to the teen who was also Marty, but probably wouldn't be for much longer if the timeline hadn't been fixed.

"Really Calvin," Lorraine argued, "you don't remember anything about when you were a kid, not since my father hit you with the car twenty-five years ago. But he does seem familiar, in a strange sort of way."

There was a sudden, barely detectable tremor in the air, and a sort of bluish light passed through the area. Marty suddenly saw the figure of George McFly in front of him, where his memory-less older self had stood a moment before.

"What did you say, Lorraine? I missed that," George asked, as if he had been standing there the whole time.

"I said, there's something familiar about him, but I can't place it. What's your name, young man?" she inquired.

Marty quit staring at his real father. "Luke," he replied, having already thought of a good name. Then he shivered for good measure.

"Oh, you must be freezing!" Lorraine exclaimed. "Quick, into the car."

Marty, who was very much relieved to see his real father turn up (although he really wanted to ask Doc to explain the details to him again), looked at his younger self to see if he had noticed the sudden change of conversation. The boy happened to look up at the stranger at just that same moment, after hearing the name he gave. Their eyes met. The older Marty, who knew full well who he was really looking at, felt a bit odd and then tore his gaze away. The younger boy wasn't so lucky: a strange sense of recognition (or precognition) flashed through his mind, short-circuiting his brain and sending him straight to the ground in a daze.

His older self, fearful for his safety, reached out and caught him a moment before his head hit the ground. "It must be shock… from the accident," he covered. He lifted himself up and ran to the so familiar car, dripping water. His parents helped the pair into the back of the comparatively warm car, and hit the road for home.

Marty watched the street outside the window as the journey began, relieved to be able to look around him without rushing to get somewhere. His eyes hit something familiar: a cyclist pedalling by the side of the road from the other direction. He wound down his window. "Hey Needles, skateboards sure beat bikes!" he yelled as the car and bike passed one another.

Needles stared after the car, wondering what was going on. He shook his

"So Luke, where are you from?" Lorraine asked a few minutes into the trip home.

"San Francisco," he answered quickly.

"More importantly, how did Marty come to almost crash into that bus?" George asked with concern.

"Well, I'm not really sure, but it would have been nasty if I hadn't moved in the way. It's fortunate the lake was there too, despite the cold. It's sure a windy day, isn't it? Do you get much wind out here?"

"No, not like this. But Hill Valley occasionally has freak weather, like the thunderstorm back in '55. Have you heard about that?" George asked.

"Of course. The moment I set foot near the courthouse, I had people all over me explaining the history of the clock," Marty replied, inventing a story from his own experiences.

"Yes, we all tend to get overzealous about that clock," Lorraine agreed apologetically as the car entered Lyon Estates. "We're almost there. I'm afraid you'll have to settle for sitting in front of the fireplace, as we wouldn't have any dry clothes to fit you."

"Hey, don't worry about it. You're being too kind as it is."

"Nonsense, you probably saved our son's life back there," George argued.

"Fine, fine, good, good. I'll, uh, stay until I'm dry, but then I need to get going. I'm supposed to meet up with some friends shortly."

"Do you want to ring them and tell them you might be late?" Lorraine asked generously as Marty lifted himself out of the car and headed towards the front door.

"Nah, they won't be home, and they won't expect me for a while. It shouldn't take too long to dry. I just hope your car isn't too wet." He stepped inside, looking around and trying not to let the recognition show on his face. The furniture definitely showed that George was living the prosperous life Marty had been getting used to for the past few weeks. Marty had worried a little that he might have managed to mess things up again and dump himself back in the original reality where his father had been a total wimp, but he could see there was nothing to worry about.

"Don't worry about the car, it isn't about to catch cold," George joked, pulling his wrongly aged son out of his thoughts. "Put him here," he instructed, pointing towards the couch.

Marty set himself down, and then stood as close to the fire as he could, trying to dry off as fast as possible. He knew Doc wouldn't be happy to hear that he had interacted with his parents, and visited his house too. A though struck him: the radio! He waited until his mother had carried his younger self to his bedroom and his father had gone to look at the car, and pulled it out for inspection. Happily, it was built to be waterproof, so it was not at all damaged.

He pressed the talk button. "Doc, are you there?" He waited for a reply, but received none. "C'mon Doc, what's happening?" Still no reply. He sighed, and stuffed it back into his pocket, noticing the fabric of his jeans was just about dry. Turning around, he let his other side dry out. His mind drifted off as he wondered what was wrong with the radio. Maybe something had happened to Doc's radio, or to Doc. He hoped with all his heart that it wasn't the latter.

"He'll be okay now," Lorraine announced, slipping into the lounge room and interrupting his musing.

"Huh? Oh, great, that's great. Nice kid."

"Yes, although he can be trying at times. I remember when he nearly burnt the house down, a few years back."

"The house? You've gotta be exaggerating a little there."

"A little. Are you drying out?"

"Sure am," Marty answered. "I hope I'm not in the way of anything by being here."

"Nonsense. In fact, I really should ask you if you'd like anything hot to drink."

Marty considered the question for a moment. "No, but thanks for offering. This fire is hot enough. Actually, I'm pretty dry now and should really be going."

"You're leaving already?" asked George as he stepped back inside at that moment.

"Yeah, I need to meet up with some friends at a place in town. Thanks for letting me warm up. Nice place you have." Marty edged towards the door as he spread around these compliments.

George wouldn't let him go without asking one more question first. "Luke, did I meet your father some time?"

Marty grinned deviously as he moved out the door. "Lorraine's maiden name is Baines, right?"

George nodded.

"In that case, he's met you. It's good to see your brain is working at a safe temperature, so to speak. Bye." And with those mysterious words, he took off across the lawn and down the road.

George stared after him, dumbstruck. He shook his head. "Luke, huh? Weird," he muttered. This was not at all like what he had expected.

"What's wrong dear? What was that talk about your brain?" Lorraine asked, concerned.

"Nothing, just old business. An old… joke, I guess. Something to put in my novel."

"What?"

"Never mind. He's just a very strange young man, that's all."

"Hmm." Lorraine remembered that phrase from her youth. "Maybe… he could be related to… Calvin Klein."

"If he's human," George muttered, turning to walk to his study room.

"What did you say?" Lorraine asked, not catching the comment.

"Nothing, Lorraine. I'm just so glad we're together, aren't you?"

Lorraine smiled in agreement. "Yes, and we'll always be together. Nothing can ever change that."

"No one on this planet, or any other, can change it." And with that, he gave her a quick kiss and made his way into his study to write down some notes.

After a tiring jog through the outskirts of Hill Valley, Marty located the clearing where he had left the time train. Relieved, he saw it awaiting him where he expected it. He ran over to it and bounded up the stairs which were lowered as soon as he came close.

"Marty! Wherever have you been all this time?" Emmett demanded as soon as his friend sat down.

"Around. I ran into a few complications, but I think everything worked out in the end," Marty answered, trying to placate the inventor. "Say, what happened to the radio? I tried to call you, y'know."

Emmett gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry, that's my fault really. I took it into my head to look over the time circuits, to see how I would go about upgrading the system. In the process, I managed to find a circuit in which a large electric charge had built up, thanks to my comparatively primitive components. A large spark arced to the radio, destroying the inner circuitry. It's a good thing I had it in my hand, otherwise…"

"You might not be feeling so well," Marty completed.

"That sums it up nicely. Speaking of summing things up, take a look at this." He whipped a photograph out of his pocket. "It's the picture Catherine gave me of your parents' wedding. As you can see, George is in the picture, as he should be."

"Great Doc, great. I already knew it had all changed back though."

"Really? Did you run into your parents again? Remember the last time that happened."

"Calm down Doc. Last time I did that, they weren't my parents yet, and they were my age. There's no way I could mess anything up in this time period."

"There isn't? Then why did we come here in the first place, Future Boy?"

Marty winced at the name that Emmett occasionally used, particularly when he'd just said something stupid. "Point taken, I've managed to do a pretty good job of messing things up already. But it's all fixed now. Can we go home, or is there anything you need to do to put the time circuits back together?"

"No, it's all in one piece now, thankfully. I take it you convinced your younger self not to be so foolish on his skateboard."

"Uh, actually, I didn't."

"You didn't? Then how in the world did you manage to restore the timeline? It just isn't possible."

"Yeah, and it wasn't possible to talk myself out of it, either. I just wouldn't listen. So the only thing I could do was to save myself."

"Save yourself?" Emmett echoed again.

"Yeah, I skateboarded after myself and stopped myself from running into a bus. Barely. Then I – we – both of me – landed in the lake, that little one in the middle of town. Then my – our – parents showed up and took us home to dry. I stayed around long enough to warm up and got right out of there."

"Great Scott! You mean you went to your home, along with your younger self?"

"I didn't have much choice, Doc. Oh, and when they first showed up, my dad was still me – or Calvin, I guess. After about a minute, he suddenly changed into George, and no one noticed but me!"

"Well, that is out of the ordinary, but it makes sense."

"I figured it made sense, but I couldn't figure out how," Marty answered honestly.

"To put it simply, by preventing your younger self from hitting his head, you broke a chain of events that would have lead to yourself unfortunately being your father. This change was not instantaneous, since the you who was to travel back in time and lose his memory did not do that for another five years, and did it twenty-five years in the past. When the change did occur, no one would have noticed, since from their point of view, it had always been that way. Since you are not in your own time, the change could not affect you, since you are out of your proper place in the continuum. Does that make sense?"

"Enough," was Marty's short reply. "Can we get home before I get a headache from this whole business? The single thought of being married to my mother is enough to drive me crazy, you know. It would be nice to get back home and forget about time travel for a little while, you know, be normal for a change."

"That sounds like an excellent idea." Emmett clicked the hover systems online and took the train to the sky.

Marty watched the scenery blur below him as the train gained velocity. "It was weird how the adventures Catherine and Bess had in 1885 were so similar to mine," he commented. "It'll be a big relief when life gets back to normal.

"Indeed it will. Prepare for impending temporal displacement."

Marty held on tight, ready for the familiar sensations and extra turbulence that hit a moment later. But neither occupant was ready to discover that life would never truly be the same again.


	16. Doc & Clara's Double, and reviewer notes

other Here's the final chapter! But first, some notes to reviewers.

General note to reviewers: thanks for your comments everyone. I really appreciate you all and apologise for not remembering to reply very often.

RoXoR: a sequel… or four… and thanks for your review of Past-Forward, it really made my day.

SomePerson: heh. You will be surprised.

Clarafan: not quite finished

Gijinka Renamon: I've been told that before. Yeah, it's weird. Marty managed to handle it okay.

Stoko: who knows what happened in the new timeline. Marty certainly had no idea that she was his mother. And I'll gladly ignore the genetic effects this once.

(and some older reviews)

clarafan: yeah, you keep telling me that. Yes, poor Marty indeed.

Stoko: the script? Funny that. I'll take part of that comment (the part about writing pretty well) as a comment, and apologise for flashbacking for so long: I originally intended it to be 2 or 3 chapters, but the idea ran away with me.

Anakin McFly: That's my fave quote from that chapter!

BackTo1955: yeah, hilarious

Anakin McFly: maybe she saw it in the future. She better have, since I haven't. Weird.

And now, on with the story!!

Chapter 16

4:30 pm  
November 16 1985  
Hill Valley California

"Hi Mom," Marty greeted as he entered the McFly home. He had that moment returned from the Browns' Century House, after saying a quick hi to the injured Jules.

"Marty, you're home. I didn't realise you meant to spend so long with Doctor Brown today," his mother began.

"Yeah, well Jules hurt himself falling out of a tree, so I stayed around for a bit longer. You really should meet Jules sometime, Mom. He's an interesting kid. You should meet all of Doc's family some time, actually."

"I did see them at the Fundraiser Night, briefly. But I didn't have the chance to talk with them. And I didn't see any hurry to do so, seeing as Doctor Brown has kept them under his hat all these years, so to speak."

"Hey, that's Doc's way; he never tells people things they don't ask about unless they need to know. And no one needed to know about his family, so he didn't tell anyone," Marty defended in his usual light-hearted way.

"That is a little unusual," Lorraine stated bluntly.

"So? Usual-ness doesn't mean anything to Doc. Well, within limits," he amended.

"But not usual limits," Lorraine shot back with good humour.

Marty laughed. "I'm gonna call Jennifer."

"Funny you should say that, I was just about to tell you that she called earlier to tell you she was back from shopping with her mother. Rather sweet of her, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I do. Of course. I'll be in my room if anyone needs me." He turned to leave the room.

"Just don't be to loud: your father is busy writing at the moment," Lorraine warned.

"I'll keep that in mind," Marty promised as he ran to make the call. He picked up the phone in his room and dialled. The call was answered on the first ring.

"Jennifer Parker speaking."

"Hey Jen, I'm back," Marty replied.

"Great, Marty. How did the picnic go?"

"Well... the picnic went okay, except Jules gave his arm a nasty scrape while rescuing a kite."

"Oh, poor Jules. How is he?" Jennifer asked, concerned for the boy.

"He's doing alright. He's been to see the doctor to get all stitched up or whatever, but he was back home by the time I left."

"And the tape?"

"Tape? Oh, _that_ tape. I'd almost forgotten about it completely; but yeah, I bought it fine. I haven't listened to it yet."

There was a pause in the conversation as Jennifer digested this information. "Marty," she finally asked, "how did you manage to spend so much time and forget about the tape? I understand Jules' injury would have delayed you, but not to the point of forgetting the primary reason for your trip." She sounded a little confused, but not quite cross.

"We ended up a little sidetracked after our first trip," Marty began, avoiding specifying the details of the trip in case someone was listening in.

"First trip?" Jennifer echoed.

"Ahhh... maybe we should talk about this in person. On the other hand, let's just say that I've decided I'm glad that I didn't... hang on, I did. But if I never had, I wouldn't mind..." he broke off with a frustrated sigh.

"What event are we talking about?" Jennifer clarified, trying to save the conversation.

"Skateboarding. Towing behind a car at age twelve."

There was a pause, and then... "Oooohhh!" Jennifer exclaimed in a voice thick with realisation and understanding. "I know exactly what you're talking about." She considered the implications. "So the weird guy who talked you into it, and tried to talk you out of it, and saved you, and crashed into the lake, and said weird things to your dad was actually..."

"Yep. But there was a big gap between the first two events, during which history was in a state that I'd like to forget about totally."

"Maybe if you hit your head you might forget..." Jennifer innocently suggested.

"No! That's what caused the whole mess to begin with."

"You mean you hit your head on that... bus?"

"Apparently. I'll tell you about it at a better time. Did you have an enjoyable time shopping with your mom?"

"Oh, yes; we had a great time. I bought this absolutely wonderful new dress. You really need to see it, Marty."

"See you tomorrow then. We can talk more too."

"Fine by me," Jennifer answered. Marty could practically hear her smile. "I'm not particularly busy in the morning, so you could visit for a little while before... you have band practice, right?"

Marty nodded out of habit and replied, "We sure do. I can drive you over there - if you want to hear us practice, that is."

"Really Marty, you know I want to."

"Just making sure."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow. Just be ready to be told off for messing up you-know-what."

"Sure, I'm shaking already. But it was an accident."

Jennifer laughed. "You have a history of accidents. In fact, you're lucky you have a history."

"Thank Doc for that," Marty replied. "But I've saved him plenty of times too. And not all my accidents are bad."

Jennifer heartily agreed. "Remember how we met?"

"I'm not sure if I want to, but I wouldn't change it for the world."

"You'd better not," Jennifer warned.

"Hey, I have already erased you once," Marty pointed out.

Jennifer didn't answer.

Marty searched for something redeeming to say. "But I decided I liked you better than the world," he joked.

"Really Marty, flattery will get you."

"Get me what?"

"It'll just get you."

"Oh. I'll watch out then. Love ya."

"Decided your phone bill is big enough?"

"Yup."

"In that case, I love you too Marty, and I'd better not be too expensive."

"We'll talk more tomorrow."

"Bye Marty."

"Bye Jennifer."

There was an awkward pause, and then both teens set down their phones.

"Marty, put your skateboard away properly - it's dangerous where you left it," called Linda, who must have been busy in some other part of the house when he had arrived.

"Perfect timing," Marty congratulated himself. He dashed out of his room before she could call again.

6:21 PM  
November 22 1985  
Hill Valley California

"Dransellton. Hmm... Nope. Nothing's coming. Maybe I'd have more luck if he changed the name to 'Phil's Mega Pet Store'," Marty mused as he sat in his room, clutching a chewed pencil. "It's either too long to fit in a line, or else it plain won't rhyme. Maybe I should tell Mr Dransellton to stick with his old radio ad."

"Riing. Riiing!" Marty threw down the pencil in annoyance and grabbed at the phone. "Marty here."

"Marty! This is Phil Dransellton. How's the jingle going?"

"Uh, not too fast actually. You see..."

"Great, great. I hoped I'd caught you before you wrote much."

"Why, don't you want the ad any more?" Marty asked, a little hopefully.

"Sure I want the ad, but I've made some other business changes, and they will change the ad, so you would need to start again," Phil explained.

"Right, that's cool with me. So, what's the change?"

"Ah, the change. You see, I had been talking with some customers, as I tend to do, and a profound thought hit me. I said to myself, 'Phil,' (since that's my name), 'Phil,' I said, 'how many people can't remember the name of your mega pet store?'"

"And... what did you answer?" Marty asked slowly.

"Ah yes, I answered right back and said, 'Too many!' So I decided to change the name to 'Phil's Mega Pet Store'. How does that sound?"

"Fine. It's good. I like it."

"Then I am a happy man. Just between the two of us, it would be a little pain to fit 'Dransellton' into a song, eh?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking when you rang."

"Really? Well, your job should be easier now. Good luck."

"Thanks." Marty grinned widely as he hung up the phone. He searched the floor for his pencil and returned to his musings.

He quickly found himself humming, "Was a farmer, had no dog. Where did you think he did go? Phil's Meg-a Pet Store, Phil's Meg-a Pet Store, Phil's Meg-a Pet Store, and Bingo was his..." He shook his head and started laughing at the corniness of it.

"The pets came marching two by two. Hoorah, hoorah." He groaned. "C'mon McFly, think of something original. I need some inspiration. Hey, maybe I could ask..."

"Riiing!" The pencil hit the floor and vanished under some junk as Marty lunged for the phone. "Doc?"

"How could you possibly know it's me?"

"A big hello to you too, Doc. Lucky guess. Hey, sorry I haven't been by for a few days, but..."

"Never mind that now. I have shocking news."

"Y-you do? What's up?"

"It's absolutely astounding, incredible!"

"Wha-what is it, Doc?"

"It's Clara!"

"Clara? I remember she wasn't feeling so good last week. Is that it?"

"Precisely! Her condition has moved down-hill, so I had the doctor check her out."

"So Doc, Doc, what is it, what does she have?"

"Twins!"

The End.

Chapter 17

Or is it?

Chapter 18

Maybe…

Chapter 19

Well, it's the end of this fic, but there will be others.

Chapter 20

This chapter is dedicated to clarafan, LOL

That's all, folks!


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